A Norwegian History
by Adelheidi
Summary: As the glacial ice from the last ice age melted away the lands further north became habitable for plant, animal and human life. This is the story of Norway from the very beginning and until modern time. Through times of peace, war, famine, plague and unions, all of the thing a country will experience over time.
1. In the beginning

**AN:** This story is supposed to be based on Norwegian history as the title indicates.

The first few chapters of this story will most likely seem very childish and sweet, they do to me. But as the characters in this story grow up and develop, they won't stay all that innocent, or at least that's what I hope. So most likely the style of writing will change a bit over time hopefully for the better.

I hope you will enjoy the first chapter of a Norwegian history.

**New notes:** I have added Denmark as the second character of this story. I have a thing for the whole DenNor relationship as there is an interesting dynamic between the two of them. Denmark will (at least according to plan) play a pretty big role in the story.

He (and Sweden) will make their first appearance in chapter 4 so you can skip ahead if you can't read a story without Denmark's lovable presence

* * *

The history books have a story to tell. An explanation of how a country and its people developed over time in into what it is today. What common people don't know is that every single country has a personification that will represent the land. Ordinary humans don't recognize the personifications as countries as they appear like humans themselves.

Most of the humans that are able to recognize the personifications for what they are, is usually the leader of the country, often because the personification itself will reveal what they are for their leader so they can interact the worlds other personifications on behalf of its country. Hiding who they really are from ordinary humans.

**Stone Age (- 1800 B.C.)**

**In the beginning**

Approximately 20000 years ago, the last ice age had its maximum spread of ice. A thick glacier covered large portions of northern Europe, making it impossible for anything to live in the lands before the ice would melt away. And one of the countries that were completely covered by ice so thick that left only the highest peaks without the cover of the glacier, was the country today known as Norway.

The glacier is the force responsible of the rough and amazing landscape that is characteristic of Norway. The mountains standing tall with their sharp peaks and jagged edges, the fjords today are following the valleys created by the moving glaciers.

After a couple of thousands of years, the climate got warmer and the ice started retreating. The ice melted and the ocean levels rose. Vegetation could finally begin to take over the landscape left bare and cold after thousands of years covered by ice, and let mighty forest establish. This change in climate made it possible for animals and humans to settle down in this cold, harsh country.

In the beginning, just after the ice age was over only a few people inhabited the country, but as time passed by the number slowly increased. The first people of Norway lived mostly by the ocean since it provided easy access to great amounts of fish. They were good around boats, as they should be with the great blue abyss as their closest neighbor. But the people were not entirely depending on the fish to survive. They were great hunters as well, travelling inlands to hunt game. The land itself provided everything necessary for the people's survival.

* * *

In the heart of the forest of southern Norway there lived a boy looking approximately five years of age all by himself. How long he had been there he could not recall. He only knew it had been for a long time. One can wonder how he was able to survive by himself, since he could not possible be able to provide what he needed for survival on his own.

What kept him alive was the spirits of the forest providing what he needed of clothes, food and shelter. These creatures and the animals of the forest were all the boy knew in the world, he had never met any of the people living near the ocean. The spirits that took care of him were tiny creatures looking more or less human except from them having wings and they seemed to be surrounded by a shimmering light at all times.

The boy had asked them what they were, because he knew that he was not entirely like them. One of them, a girl dressed in a pink tunic with a waistband made of flowers tied together answered him: "We are _alfar"__**[1]**_ She said in a warm soft voice, "creatures of the forest, we tend to all the things living here." The other fairies that had previously been flying randomly around the clearing they were residing in at the moment had gathered in a circle around the boy. They giggled and nodded in agreement to what the pink fairy said. "How do you do that?" the boy asked, for the forest was so big and stretched out for what seemed forever to his young mind, so how could such tiny creatures keep up with it all? "Magic!" a different fairy screamed and it didn't take long before most of them were chanting the word of all their might in their tiny, shrill voices, causing the boy to giggle.

"Would you like to learn some magic?" The pink fairy asked. The boy's eyes grew wide with excitement. "But how can I? I'm not an alfer like you" The pink fairy smiled at him and said: "You are special, even among those of your own kind you are special." The boy was confused; he had tried to get information out of the elves before. He had asked them if they knew what he was and where he really belonged and they had just answered that he was exactly where he needed to be, and they would tell him more when it was time. And now they seemed so willing to tell him more than they had ever told before, so the boy just stared at the pink fairy with a questioning look.

One of the other fairies, a male dressed in light green clothes flew up to the pink fairy and whispered something in her ear. Her expression changed and took on a hint of sadness. "We can't keep him in the dark any longer" she said. "The people of this land are beginning to get organized, and they will soon need him." That sentence caused most of the other elves to lose their smiles as well, and the boy was left more confused than ever. "We all knew this day was coming, he does after all not belong to us" another fairy cut in.

"I don't understand" the boy said "what are you talking about?"All of the fairies turned their heads to the pink fairy. Apparently they chose her to tell the story for the boy.

She let out a low sigh and flew to a low branch just in front of the boy, who sat down on the ground expecting a story. All the other fairies took their example and found places to sit down as the story was being told. The pink fairy opened her mouth and started the tale that would let the boy know more of who he was.

"The alfar came to this country as soon as the plants started to grow after the great ice had melted. We came here because we are meant to take care of all things growing. After the plants came, so did the animals and after them the humans came to dwell in this country as well. And it was a while after the humans have settled down that you came to be. You may look like the humans do, but you are not like them. We know this because we could sense you, and that means you have magic. And when we found you we realized what you really are, and we decided that we needed to take care of you, since a small child cannot survive alone."

Then one of the fairies clearly lost her patience "You're avoiding the answer!" she nearly screamed. "You can try to drag out the time by telling the story but we cannot protect him from the rest of the world forever. He is the spirit of this country and is linked to its people. He needs to be with them even if they seem like brutes to us! The link between him and his people will never develop if he stays with us and he might cease to exist" This caused some of the fairies to go pale and e few even started crying. The boy was left speechless.

He understood that he had to go live with the humans, and the fairies seemed to dislike them, as they had never mentioned them to him before. He wished he could forget the entire conversation and live on as they had done for so long. The fairies explanation wasn't exactly good, but somehow he felt he understood what he was.

There was a long time with dense silence. The boy looked at the pink fairy, which looked away shamefully. He tried looking to the other fairies, but most of them looked to the ground or hid their faces behind their small hands. So the boy rose up and walked away from the clearing they had been in. None of the Fairies said anything; they all knew he needed some time alone to think things over. But as soon as he left and was out of earshot the fairies started screaming at each other, throwing blame and insults around.

The little boy was wandering aimlessly around in the forest for several hours just thinking for himself. He didn't really know what to believe. He would need more of an explanation to understand what exactly it meant to be the spirit of a nation, but he was too angry to be in the presence of the elves at the moment. They had known what he was all along and they had kept it a secret from him. He just needed to cool down, and he would talk with them later.

* * *

The darkness was sneaking in over the land, and it was just what the boy had been waiting for. "Mose[2]?" He whispered out in the dark of his surroundings. It was silent for several minutes, not a breath of wind was heard, and the trees held back their rustling of leaves. Then the boy finally heard the sounds of heavy footsteps in the distance slowly getting closer. And not after long a gigantic shadow appeared between the trees.

The creature getting closer was huge; it was pushing the trees aside to be able to step into the clearing where the boy was standing, waiting. The creature had a dark grey tone of skin, and looked more or less like a moving rock. There were a couple of small branches growing straight out of its skin and large portions of its body were covered in moss, which was the reason behind the creature's name. This creature and the others of his kind would later be known to the humans as a troll.

The huge creature had an appearance that would scare pretty much anybody or anything that was unlucky enough to catch a glimpse of it. But the boy was not scared, nor had he ever been. He had lived with the elves during daytime, but in the nights, the trolls would awake and walk about in the forest, and sometimes they would meet the boy. They had never acted aggressive towards him, they had even brought him food at times, but they weren't among the most brilliant of creatures, so they didn't realize the boy would need the food cooked. The boy still appreciated the gesture, and he had befriended a few of them, one of them was the troll he came to know by the name of Mose.

The troll made a dark rumbling sound and stopped walking when he had arrived just in front of the boy who looked up at him with big blue eyes. "You called" the troll said with its dark booming voice. The boy nodded and said: "I have something I need to talk to you about." The troll didn't say anything, it lifted its big hand down to the ground and the boy climbed in. He then proceeded to lift the boy up to his eye level. "What?" The troll asked.

Mose and the other trolls had never been very talkative. If the boy ever wanted to talk to them he would usually stand for the largest portions of the conversation himself and the trolls would give him answers in the form of deep rumbling noises from their throat, only using different pitch of the rumbling noises to communicate. They didn't like to use the human tongue; the words never came out right, but would sometimes use it when they communicated with the boy to make him more comfortable in their presence.

The boy made himself comfortable in the hand of the troll. He would most likely stay there for a while. "It was something the alfar said…" Mose grunted in disapproval, he didn't much like the fairies. They were too happy and never shut up. The boy ignored the troll and kept talking partially to Mose and partially to himself. He told Mose what the fairies had told him about there being humans along the coast, and that there was a link between him and this people because apparently he was the personification of their country. And then he realized that he didn't really know anything else because he had run off before they could tell him anything else. He did regret it now, he would have known so much more if he had just had patience enough and kept his emotions in control he would have known so much more by now.

"Mose?" the boy asked. "Did you know about me?" Mose made some dark rumbling noises again before he opened his mouth. "I just knew you were special" and with those words the troll went silent again. The boy let out a sigh. "I don't want to be with these people, I want to stay in the forests and the mountains." Mose still didn't say anything; he just sat there silently on his rock in the middle of the clearing. Bitter tears ran down the boy's cheek, he somehow knew that there was nothing to do with the situation. This was his fate, and he had to surrender to it, he could not hide away forever. Mose still did not move, and the boy didn't really want to talk anymore, so he just curled up in the trolls open hand and fell asleep to the sounds of the forest.

* * *

The boy woke in the clearing when the first rays of sunlight hit his face. Somehow Mose had been able to put him down on the ground during the night without waking him. He had probably gone hunting or hidden in the shadows so the sun would not turn him to stone. It was time to go back to the elves. He was hungry now and they still had more to tell him. The anger and frustration he felt the day before was now tucked away in the corners of his mind, he was ready to face them.

They must have known he would come back, because they were all gathered and kept silent until he sat down in front of them. As yesterday the fairy dressed in pink took the lead. "Do you understand what we told you yesterday?" She asked. The boy nodded slowly. "Some of it, but not all… Somehow I am connected to the people living in this land. I am them I think." The pink fairy smiled sadly. "It's amazing how fast you understand as soon as we made you open your eyes. There is more, but we don't remember anymore how we got this knowledge."

A new fairy stepped forward. She was older than most of the others, having soft wrinkles in her face. Smiling wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, but also some spread on her forehead that must have come from times of worry. "My sweet boy" the fairy said, in a soft and gentle voice. "There will come a time when people of this land will become a great nation. Right now their numbers only count a few thousand souls, but one day they will be many more. They will grow a feeling of who they are, and you are all of them. All of their consciousnesses are represented by you. And in time they will find a leader, and their leader will be your leader." The fairy stopped talking. She just looked at the boy, but she could not read his face, there was no clear expression to read.

"Why would any force make it so?" The boy asked, his voice shaking slightly. "Such a task would be too great for any creature of this world. There is no way I can represent all the people of this country, I am just a boy." Those sentences earned him more sad looks from the fairies before the elder one started talking again. "I know sweet boy, I know. But that is the way things are supposed to be. And you will find that you are stronger than you think. You will be able to do what is necessary."

The boy's blue eyes were filling with tears, but none of them fell. The elderly fairy flapped her wings and floated just in front of the boy, to put a small hand on his cheek, and proceeded to wipe away the unshed tears. "You don't have to leave just yet. There is still some time before you need to be with your people, and I believe that our pink dressed friend here asked you if you wanted to learn magic." She smiled to the boy, and she could see just the tiniest hint of a smile cross his lips.

The times where the boy would spend his day wandering around the forest and climbing the surrounding hills without a worry in the world were nearing their end. The fairies had decided that they should teach him about the humans before they let the boy go so he could live with his people to be. They spend quite some time just observing the people of the closest village. For the villages years went by where they were unknowingly being observed, and the boy soon started knowing that something was not quite right so he asked the fairies about his observations.

"Why do these humans change appearance?" He asked. "When we first started watching them there was some that was the same size as me, and now they are half as tall as Mose." One fairy dressed in green poked her head out from the leaves she was hiding in. "it's called growing up. Humans start out all tiny and wrinkly, and then as time passes they become taller and stronger, until one day they die and they are gone." The boy remained silent in thought for a while.

"I look so much like them" He said after a few minutes in silence. "How come I don't change appearance? I have looked like this as long as I can remember." The fairy sighed. "You have lived with us through many human lifetimes, and you have looked the same for all that time. And you will keep on living as long as your people hold land and keep a memory of who they really are." "So I will never grow up?" The boy asked with a hint of sadness in his voice. He had hoped he would at least become a little bit bigger. The people in the village that were bigger looking than him seemed to be capable of more than the smaller ones. They ran around between the buildings at amazing speeds and fought playfully among themselves. The smaller ones sometimes tried to keep up, but could never match the speed and strength of the bigger.

"No!" The fairy almost screamed. Some of the village's people were looking in their direction; they must have heard the noise. So the boy and the fairy quickly hid themselves among the branches and leaved, but luckily for them nobody came to investigate any further. So the fairy started talking again. "That is not what I meant at all. You will grow up one day, but for now your people are still young, and so you will remain young as well." She was frustrated which could be heard on the high pitch her voice had reached. "But how can a people grow up when they live for such a short time and then leave this world?" The boy asked in a whisper.

The fairy tried to calm down a bit before she answered, it would be best if the humans did not discover them hiding in the bushes. "The elders will teach their younger all they know and the younglings will learn new things their parents never knew of. And so the youngest will be more learned than the ones before them. And that's the way a people grow up." At least that was as close as the fairy could explain it all.

The boy and the fairy went silent again and continued watching the village. "Miss fairy?" the boy said. "What is a parent?" The fairy let out a sigh at the question. There were so many things the boy did not understand. How could she explain what parent was to a boy that had never had any? It had been hard enough to tell him about death of humans. In one of the first weeks of watching the village one of the elder men had died.

The people looked sad as they had carried the dead in blankets and buried him outside of the village. The boy had wondered what had happened, and why everyone looked so sad, and the fairies had been forced to tell him about death. The boy had been so saddened by this conversation so they had never gotten to tell him about how new humans came to be, and how they grow up. But now the green dressed fairy suspected it was time for that conversation as well. "We should head back to the others" she said. She did not want to be the one to teach the boy any more today. She would leave that to one of the others. She thought that the boy would be sad to learn that he didn't have parent. Because she knew that he had been curious to why the younger ones in the village had clung to some of the elders, and why they seemed as happy as they did so. They boy would never feel the loving tough from a mother or father, he could only observe as others got it. This was one of the many reasons why the fairies never wanted to let the child in to the reality of the world he would live in. There was no way of knowing what would happen to him in the future.

The boy nodded and started crawling out of the bushes they had hid in; apparently he had forgotten the question about what parents are. The green fairy flapped her wings and flew just behind the boy as they headed back to where the fairies would be held up.

* * *

The boy was running happily through the forest. He had only stopped briefly in the clearing of the fairies. The green fairy had stayed behind with the rest of them and he had run of as fast as his short legs could carry him. He just needed to get a break from it all. He was getting tired of learning the ways of the humans.

Nature was more to his liking. It was wild and beautiful, bit still logical. He knew the way of the forest, the majestic stillness of the mountains and the wild beauty of the sea. And now, thanks to the fairies he knew the magic hidden behind every single aspect of nature. Magic was way more fun than learning about the humans, and he had taken to it quickly. He could draw strength from nature and bend some of the surroundings to his will if he only set his mind to it.

* * *

None of the fairies followed the child as he ran off. He had done that a lot lately. They all knew that his time to go be with the humans was getting close, and none of them knew how to react to the situation. They had lived together out in the wilderness for so long; it seemed unlikely that things would ever have to change, but now they were.

They been singing less lately, they could not find it in their hearts to sing, like they had done before. Instead they would just do their duties to the nature in silence. "How long do we have left with him?" one of the fairies said while they were tending some of the birch trees growing close to the clearing. One of the others flew up to her and slapped her on the back of the head. "Don't say it like that!" she screamed. "He is not dying. He is just not going to live with us anymore, but we can still see him from time to time." "But what if he forgets us?" The first fairy whined and rubbed her head. "He is still angry with us for keeping him in the dark most of his life."

A few more weeks went by and the fairies taught the boy everything they knew about the humans living both in the village closest to their clearing and in other parts of the country, that they had not visited. They had told him that there were other countries out in the world and they all had a spirit to represent its people. They had told him all but one single thing.

The day had finally come. All the fairies of the nearby area had gathered and they had asked some of the trolls to meet up as well. They had gotten a hold of some of the other mythical creatures of the land, and they were waiting for the boy to come back to the clearing for the night. And the boy came, and when he saw the gathering he knew immediately. "It's time isn't it?" he asked silently.

The elder fairy nodded and stepped forward. "There is only one more thing we need to tell you about before we take you to the humans. You need to know your name." The group gathered stayed silent to let the words sink in. "Name?" the boys question surprised no one. He had never been taught the principle of names. "Name yes." The fairy said. "The only one you have ever known by any name is our beloved troll Mose here. Every being out there has its own name. Not just a name that defines what kind of being they are, but a name that defines the individual alone." This statement achieved a grunt of approval from Mose and the other trolls present.

"So… Do I have a name?" the boy asked. For the first time in a long while the fairies smiled again, the elder brighter than the others. "Oh you most certainly do sweet child. We have known it for a while now. We have heard it on the wind, and tasted it on the air. We will tell it to you, but your people are still not quite ready to know." This statement gained a bright smile from the boy as well. It was obvious that he was exited to find out. "I will keep it secret! I promise!" The boy said loud and clear, locking his dark blue eyes with the fairy.

"Your one true name, the name you must always remember. Over time the tongue of the humans change and the name of their land might change with it, but you must carry this one true name with you in your heart." The gathered creatures still carried smiles, but now with a hint of serious features on their faces. The boy kept his gaze with the fairy and whispered "I understand."

"The country that is yours lies close to the ice that ever covers the north. And the way there by sea goes all the way along your lands, so the name your country carries means: The way north. And your name is Norðvegr." "Norðvegr" The boy repeated, letting the name roll of his tongue a couple of times. He smiled for himself. It felt right, so very right. That was his name, and one day he would find out for sure who he really is.

"I am ready." He said. His voice filled with determination. "Indeed you are our sweet boy." The elder fairy said. "We cannot venture to close to the village; the humans should not see creatures like us. But you have magic and will always be able to call on us. You have already done that to Mose several times, just by calling his name you have drawn him to you. And should you need me, you can just call my name, Álfdís and I will find you. The only thing you have to do to be able to summon us, any one of us is to remember. We can be out of sight but…" "Not out of mind" the boy finished.

The elder fairy kept her smile, but said nothing further. The other fairies started with high pitch laughing and giggling, and most of them flew over to hug the boy one last time before he went to the humans. Some of the trolls grunted and the boy gently shook of the fairies to go over and hug the leg of Mose and a few of the other trolls present.

Then the elder fairy flew over to take him by his hand to lead him over to where he knew the humans lived. While walking the boy took in as many sensations as he could, savoring every last sensation. He would still be able to enjoy nature, but it would never be the same, freedom to roam around as he pleased would now get a lesser priority. He would become one with his people, and he would learn how to live with them as the personification of their country. They would be his number one priority from now on. He was Norðvegr.

* * *

[1] Alfer – Fairies

[2] Mose (Norwegian) = moss (the plant growth) and hopefully a fitting name for a troll


	2. The Human Touch

**The human touch**

Most of the people in the little village had started to settle down for the night. The children had been put to bed and were sleeping soundly, and some of the women had gone to bed as well. One of the men had started a fire between the small buildings they had set up. The ocean was so abundant with so they did not need to move around to find food like people before them had needed to do.

Saga was the name of one of the women living in this little village. She had been given that name because her mother had the sight. She could see things that were to come, and she believed that her daughter would gain the same ability and therefore gave the child a name that means: "The seeing one." She had now lived to see just over 30 winters in this land and was considered to be one of the elders[1].

Now she was sitting by the fire with the rest of the people who had decided to stay up for a while longer, and enjoyed the sight of the starry sky above them. Summer had come to an end. The days were growing shorter, the darkness of night came earlier and earlier, warning the people that soon the days would be cold and sow would cover the land in a white blanket.

A sudden gust of warm wind made Saga shiver. Warm winds were a thing of summer, but the days of summer was over for this time. "Something is coming" Saga stated in a low voice. He tribesmen looked at her in wonder. They knew that they should listen to the old woman when she used that specific tone of voice. Sagas eyes were blank and she was apparently not aware of her surroundings at the moment. "Something great" she said. "We won't fully understand it, and neither will our children. But somewhere in the future, the children of our children will come to understand, all we can do now is accept." With those words the woman went silent, as she blinked a few times. She was confused and wasn't entirely aware of what she just said.

The rest of the people sitting around the fire were left in confusion. It wasn't very easy to understand the prophesies of Saga, but they had learned to follow her advise and take her words to their hearts. Sometimes a lot of time would pass before they could understand her foresights, but they had always come true in the end. "Well at least she isn't predicting something bad it seems. Great things usually aren't very bad are they?" one the younger male asked mirthfully. That earned him a hit in the shoulder, from one of his elders. "You give Saga the respect she deserves or shut up. You know perfectly well that she has never been wrong before." And by those words the group returned to silence once again.

* * *

The night went on and most of the group had returned to their huts to get some sleep. Among the ones that were awake, one was keeping the fire alive to scare animals from venturing to close to their home, and a few were standing guard just in the outskirts of their buildings, with dogs at their feet. Saga had decided to stand guard herself; she could not quite find peace in her mind after she had delivered her prophecy. She felt that something was about to happen, and she needed to be present when it did.

The first hours of her vigil started out quiet. The only thing she could hear was the rustling leaves of the forest and waves crushing against rocks in the distance. But in the middle of the night the dog lying by her feet suddenly woke to life and started growling out in the darkness. "Something is there isn't it?" The only answer Saga got from the dog was another deep growl from the dog. The other men standing guard had also noticed the change in the dog's behavior and had positioned themselves by Sagas side with weapons ready in hand.

The wild animal they had expected to come charging for them out of the dark never came. Instead a small boy came wandering with slow careful steps out of the dark. Saga took a steady hold on the dog's chain so it would not attack the child and she let out a gasp. "It is just a child. How could that be? Can any of you see anyone else out there? He could not possibly have come here by himself" The men that stood beside Saga took their own dogs and her and went to explore the direction the boy had come from with torches in hand.

Saga stared at the child, who by now looked slightly terrified, the men running past him with torches and dogs must have scared him she thought. He didn't move from the place he was standing, but he was looking wildly around himself like he was trying to figure out his situation. Saga wondered if this boy could have anything to do with her vision. It was just too much a coincidence that a strange boy would walk into their camp seemingly alone in the middle of the night mere hours after she had predicted something great would come to their village.

She could not let the boy get away, so she was ready to jump and grab him if he showed any signs of running away. He was just a child so he would not be able to outrun her, but she would rather not drag him back to their homes against his will, so she knelt down on the ground to get on an eyelevel with the boy. "Hi there little one" she said with the softest voice she could manage, "where did you come from?"

The boy stopped looking at everything around him, and locked his gaze with Saga, but he didn't answer the woman in front of him. "Can you understand me?" she asked, pronouncing the words slowly and very clearly. The boy nodded to this and Saga could feel just a touch of relief, at least she knew that the boy could understand her.

But getting the boy to talk and convince him to come with her back to the village to stay might be a completely different matter. Talking to children could always be tricky, since their minds didn't work the same way as an adults. They could easily misunderstand, and it was hard to stop a child's imagination when it first ran berserk.

Saga thought that she should probably focus on getting the boy to come with her, but she hoped to get a few answers out of him first. "Where did you come from little one?" she asked and hoped the boy would answer her this time. The boy stared at her a little while longer before he pointed towards the forest. Encouraged by the response Saga wanted to try and get a few more answers. "Did anyone else come with you?" The boy quickly shook his head and looked down to the ground.

Saga didn't know how to interpret this reaction, so she continued with questions. "Where is your family?" This question made the boy flinch just a little. That was the first real sign of emotion she had got, earlier he had only had a blank facial expression which was unusual for a child. "Is your family gone?" Saga asked, since the last question about his family had caused the boy to react, but this time he only shook his head again. But if his family wasn't gone, why was the boy alone? Saga wondered. "Can you tell me how you got here?" Saga asked, and she got yet another negative answer from the boy.

Saga was confused and she didn't know what questions she should ask the boy, especially since he refused to actually talk to her. She would have to ask him more questions later, for now she had to get the boy to come back to the village with her. The feeling from earlier still had not left her: This boy was somehow important for them all. So this was a task she could not fail.

Sudden growls from the forest startled the boy and his eyes flicked nervously around, looking just about ready to run off. The men were back from the forest. Saga quickly lifted and open hand towards the men as a signal to stay back, and so they did. Then her gaze returned to the nervous boy. "Don't worry. They won't do you anything." The men took the hint and dragged the dogs further away so they wouldn't scare the boy any further.

"There you see. They are gone now." Saga tried to smile reassuringly, and the boy seemed to calm down a bit. Now she just needed to lure the boy back to the boy back to the village somehow. "Are you hungry?" she asked. If the boy had been by himself for a while he was sure to be hungry, but to Saga's surprise he shook his head in yet another denial. "Are you tired then?" And finally the response was positive. A slow but sure nod from the boy was what she got.

Saga smiled and asked: "Would you like to come with me then? I can find you a nice and warm place to sleep." The boy looked her over yet again, like he was assessing her as a threat, but he must have found the situation acceptable because he gave another short nod.

Saga held forward open palms as she rose up and started taking slow steps toward the child. When she was standing just in front of the child, she reached forward to touch the child's face but he shuffled away from her. Saga quickly took her hands back. "Sorry" she said, "I didn't mean to scare you." Saga decided to try again. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

The boy still looked nervous but this time he didn't try to get away as she reached forward and put a hand on his cheek. "See? That wasn't so dangerous was it?" Since the boy didn't move she proceeded to move her hand from his cheek and then picked him up in her arms. To her surprise he didn't try to squirm out of her grasp, but remained calm as she carried him back to the village.

* * *

At first the boy was very nervous as he had walked towards the huts. The elder fairy had only led him to the edge of the forest and told him that he had to walk the rest of the way by himself. He had observed the humans for quite some time, but he still wasn't sure how he should behave around them when he met them.

As he got closer he could hear a deep growling coming from the direction of the village and it reminded the boy of the wolves that lived in the forest. Mose and the trolls had often chased of the animals when they had tried to get to close to the boy. But now there were no trolls to protect him.

He could see flickers from human torches get closer and heard growling from more animals, but he still took a few steps closer to the huts. He had seen that the humans had kept their wolf looking animals in ropes and that they could not go anywhere unless their masters let them.

He could here talking and most of the humans and animals had just run right past him. But there was one of them that took notice of him, a female. Her voice was soft and comforting, but she kept asking questions. He was worried that he might say something he shouldn't. The fairies had sad that there was things the humans could never know, and something that they could not find out yet. So the boy figured it was just best to stay silent for the time being.

The growling animals suddenly came back, and their masters with them. He wished that Mose was here to scare them off, and yet again he wished he could just run away. But then the woman talked and the men dragged the animals away again. The woman spoke again and she asked if he wanted to come with her, and he nodded. The boy knew he had to anyways, so he thought that it was nice of her to ask if he wanted to at least.

The woman held up her palms, but the boy didn't understand what it meant. So when the woman suddenly moved a hand to his face quickly stumbled away from her. "I won't hurt you, I promise." The woman said. The boy still didn't know what she wanted to do, but he figured he would have to learn how to trust this humans. The woman held her hand forward again, and she put her hand on his cheek. She smiled warmly and now picked him up from the ground.

The boy had never been treated this way before. He had been lifted off the ground the ground by Mose before, but that was only to be able to see the troll in the eyes when they talked, or when he had begged the troll to lift him up in the air so he could get a better view of the world. This woman on the other hand, held him close to herself, wrapping warm arms around him.

The boy felt better than he had done in a long time. It was like a piece of him that had been missing forever was finally in place. He felt whole, like this was where he was supposed to be. The link between the personification of Norðvegr and his people could finally start to develop.

* * *

Saga carried the boy to one of the huts, and on the short way there the boy fell asleep in her arms. She figured that the poor child must have been exhausted, and she still had no idea of what had happened to him. She wondered if she would ever find out.

In the corner of the hut there lay three young children sleeping, covered up in thick furs. Saga knelt down beside the child sleeping closest to the hut's entrance, changed her grip on the boy so she got one arm free. She then shook the sleeping child's shoulder gently to wake her up. "Urthr" The name made the girl on the ground stir. "Mother? What is going on?" the child asked sleepily. The girl named Urthr rubbed her eyes and looked at her mother. She then saw the boy sleeping in her mother's arm. "Who is that?" she asked.

Saga smiled at her daughter and said: "I don't know yet. We found him alone just outside, coming from the forest. I stayed up so long because I sensed something would happen, and then this child came out of the forest." This statement made Urthr's eyes widened in surprise. They had rarely met people from outside the village. Only a few times had outsiders come by their village, and they had never stayed for long. And now a boy had come to their village, all alone. "Urthr" Saga said, "I was up all this time and I need to get some rest before morning comes. Can you keep an eye on the boy and make sure he is alright?"

Urthr nodded her head. Saga knew she could trust her daughter. Urthr was the oldest of her three children and she had often looked after her younger siblings. And Saga knew that Urthr had a tendency to wake easily, so if the boy was to wake up first he would probably wake up Urthr as well, so then Saga wouldn't have to worry about the boy running of in the middle of the night.

Urthr gave a push to the child lying next to her, which caused the child to whine in his sleep and move further away. Urthr moved to the place that had previously been occupied by her younger brother so there was now a place for the boy in her mother's arm next to her. Saga put down the sleeping boy and covered him up in furs for the night, before she went to the other side of the hut to her own pile of furs to get some sleep.

* * *

The boy slept deeply through the night, not a single sound disturbing his peace. He felt warm and comfortable and only woke up when a bright glint of sunlight hit his face, coming from the open door for the hut. Trying to get away from the light he curled under the amount of furs he was sleeping under, but then a voice interrupted him. "So you are finally awake?" The voice was that of a girl, but it was strong and held a great amount of authority.

"There is still some food left for you if you get up now" the girl said. The hiding boy could feel his belly rumble slightly in hunger, and he knew he would not be able to hide under thick furs for the rest of the day anyways, so he decided to slowly peek over the edge of the furs. He took a look around to figure out the surroundings. He found that he had three pairs of eyes fixed on him. There was one girl sitting on the ground by the fire, two younger boys sitting on the floor only a few feet away staring at him. The girl was smiling gently at him, while the boys just had their mouths partially open.

"Stop staring!" The girl barked at the boys "You're scaring him." The boys pouted and walked over to one of the corners of the cabin and started whispering among themselves. The child hiding among the furs just clung to them so much tighter. "Sorry about them, they are just curious. We don't meet many people from outside this village. You should come and eat while the food is still relatively warm."

The boy decided that this girl wasn't too scary, when she wasn't giving commands to the other boys, so he tossed away the furs and headed over to where she sat. She handed him a bowl filled with a grey mass and some kind of tool he had never seen before. He tried to smell the weird looking food and picked up the tool to eye it suspiciously. "That would be a spoon" the girl said. "You are supposed to put food on it and then eat of it."

The boy did as the girl said, or at least he tried to. It took him a little while to figure out exactly how the tool worked; the food fell off if he held it the wrong way and he came dangerously close to spilling the mystery food all over himself several times. The girl just looked at him while as he ate and smiled encouragingly at him. "It's not often you see anyone that happy for a bowl of plain gruel" she said.

* * *

Saga was woken by her daughter shaking her slightly in the shoulder. "Do you want some breakfast mother? There is still some left." Saga threw her furs away and sat up to have a look around the cottage. She saw the boy sitting by the fire struggling with his bowl of gruel. "How is the boy" Saga asked. Urthr turned her head to look at the child. "He eats at least, but he has not said a single word since he woke up." "I had not thought he would either" Saga answered. "Can you take the boys outside for a bit, maybe it will be easier for him with fewer people in the same room?"

Urthr nodded obediently and walked over the two boys still whispering amongst themselves in the corner. She said something to them, and all three of them walked outside in the sunlight. Saga rose up and walked over to the fire where she found the bowl of gruel left for her by Urthr.

Saga picked up her own bowl of food and started eating and staring at the boy at the same time. He seemed undisturbed by her staring as he was too busy trying to eat his meal. Now that it was daylight she could finally look at the boys features. He looked to be about five winters of age or so, but she couldn't be sure because he looked a bit small and skinny so it was hard to tell. He didn't really have a specific expression on his face, and she couldn't read any in the dark blue eyes either. They had the same color as the deep sea on a quiet day without wind, when the ocean would hide its secrets under a still surface. Not revealing the wild nature and playfulness that would be shown as soon as wind would stir the waters. His hair was pale blond and his bangs threatened to fall in his eyes to obstruct his view. Most of his hair was straight and fine except from a lock of hair that formed a strange curl on the side of his head.

"It isn't as easy as you would think huh?" Saga asked in an attempt to start a conversation. The boy finally looked up from his bowl and observed as Saga filled her own spoon with gruel and put it in her mouth. "Do you want me to show you how to use the spoon?" Saga asked and smiled at him. She was happy to see that the boy nodded eagerly. Perhaps there was a chance he would trust her enough to open up in the nearest future.

She adjusted the boys grip on the spoon and helped him to fill it up. "There you go" she said and the boy finally seemed to understand how the tool worked. "So you were hungry then?" she got a slight nod from the boy. "Yesterday you indicated that you came from the forest. Is that true?" Saga asked. The boy nodded. "You indicated that you came alone, but that your family wasn't gone. How can that be?"

"I don't have a family" the boy whispered quietly, but at least he spoke at all. Saga was surprised and still didn't understand. "You couldn't possibly have lived on your own out in the wilderness" Saga said. "I can't tell you" he answered, voice still only a whisper. Saga lifted one eyebrow in wonder. "Can you at least tell me your name?" The boy shook his head and kept his look down. The fairies had told him that the humans could not know his real name yet, and he had no other name he could give this human.

* * *

This was the moment when Urthr suddenly reentered the hut with a mildly worried look on her face. "Mother" she said. "Ròðmundr wants you to tell him about the boy you found. He wants to know if he has told you anything worth knowing." Saga let out a sigh; she had just gotten out of bed and barely gotten any words out of the boy. "Ròðmundr has always been an inpatient one, just like his father before him."

"Yes" Urthr agreed. "But we both know that he will keep leading us well until his son will take over after him." Saga rose up and gave a sad smile to her daughter. "I am sorry that you have to share my gift and think of it as a curse." "Don't be sorry mother. You did not choose to give me the sight; it was out of your control. I just don't know how you manage to do what you do. You are the wise woman of the town, and you can use your sight to give advice to the others."

"One day you will be the one to give advice my dearest daughter, just you wait. I gave you your name for a reason you know." Now it was Urthr who let out a sigh. "You keep telling me so mother. I'll look after the boy; you go talk to Ròðmundr before he gets inpatient and tear our hut down." Saga walked over to her daughter and placed a kiss on her forehead, and then she walked out of the hut, leaving the boy and Urthr alone.

Urthr still stood by the door in deep thought when a quiet voice interrupted her line of thinking: "What's the name your mother gave you?" Urthr was shocked when she realized that it was actually the boy who had spoken. "My mother named me Urthr" she answered. She walked over to the fire and took over her mother's place in front of the boy so she could look at his face and see if she could figure him out. He had seemed so shy and withheld all morning, and now he was suddenly talking.

"Why did she name you so?" the boy asked, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Do you want me to tell you the story of why I got my name or do you want the short answer?" Urthr asked in return. "Story, please" the boy answered, and Urthr could see just the tiniest hint of curiosity in the child's eyes now even though his face remained indifferent.

"My mother gave me that name because it means fate. My mother possesses a special gift we just call the sight. She can sometimes see glimpses of the future, and when I was born she saw that I would inherit her gift, and sensed that it would be important in the future. She thought that it was fate that gave me her gift and therefore she gave me a name that means fate, so that I will remember that everything has its reason."

It was more a short explanation than a story, but the boy gave her slight nod and seemed satisfied by her answer. They sat in silence for a while just looking at each other. "I gave you my name" said Urthr. "You wouldn't tell my mother your name; can you tell me why that is?"

The boy looked troubled when she asked that question and he kept his mouth shut. Urthr was confused, she had overheard her mother talking with the boy and the answers he had given were weird. He was a boy that had survived alone out in the wilderness, he had no family and he wouldn't explain how that was possible. "There is no name I can give you" the boy said after a long while of silence.

"You're a mysterious little one, huh?" Urthr sighed. "My mother said she sensed something would happen before she found you, I wonder why that is." The two of them continued their staring competition Urthr had no idea of what to think of the boy.

Urthr didn't like that she had inherited the sight from her mother. She was not nearly as good as her mother. She never saw glimpses of the future; she just sensed it if anything was going to happen. But now she was feeling something different. She couldn't explain it, but she had started feeling different after her mother had introduced the boy. So she figured that something was really special about this boy because her mother had sensed him and now she felt some kind of connection to the boy.

She and the boy had kept staring at each other for a long time, now they locked gazes with each other. "What is it with you?" Urthr asked herself in a quiet voice. She reached forward to touch the boy's cheek. As soon as her fingers brushed the skin of his cheek she suddenly felt like she knew the boy.

"This can't be" she said, still mostly to herself. "You're not like us" she stated. The boy's face previously calm and still now carried a look of shock and horror. "The others can't know! It's not the right time!" He gripped her hand and held on to it, pleading. "I know" Urthr whispered, "I won't tell. I promise."

"We need to make a story to tell the rest of the village. We need to give them an explanation of why you need to stay with us, and why you won't grow up. Because you won't do it, not like the rest of us do anyways." Urthr was shocked by her own knowledge. She had just touched the boy and she knew who he was. And she could feel that sometime in the future this boy would become so much more than he was at the moment.

"Norðvegr" she said in a quiet voice so nobody would hear "that's who you are, isn't it?" The boy nodded and the bit his lip nervously. Urthr didn't know why but she felt happy. For the first time in her life she actually got some use of her gift with the sight. "Well, since we can tell the others your real name yet we just have to make up a different name for you in the meantime?" Urthr said in a cheerful voice.

"I think I saw part of your fate and I know that you will live for a long time. You will need a name that can still suite you in the future." The boy had just kept looking at Urthr as she kept talking, still holding on to her hand. "I wonder if I can sense what name to give you as well" Urthr said mostly to herself. She lifted her hand again, still with the boy's hand clinging to her sleeve and put her hand on his cheek again.

What she saw amazed her. The world around her faded away except the boys face, but it didn't stay the same childish one. She kept her eyes on his face and as she watched his features change from a child's until it was the face of a young man in front of her. Urthr smiled as the world returned to normal, and it was just a young boy sitting in front of her again.

"Lukas" she said after a while of silence "I think that is a fitting name." "Isn't that a strange name?" the boy asked. This caused Urthr to smile even more. "A strange boy deserves a strange name I think." Urthr laughed and flicked the boy's nose mildly. "And besides I think it's a pretty name" she said. The boy wrinkled his nose slightly from the earlier flicking "really?" "Absolutely" Urthr answered confidently "trust the weird girl with strange abilities."

The boy laughed. It was I very quiet sound, barely audible but it was there. "So then I should tell people that my name is Lukas?" he asked. "Yes you should. If I read your fate right it is still quite some time until you can use the other name of yours. But I wonder how people will ever find out that creatures like you exist if there are no stories about you. Maybe if I tell it as a story to people coming through this village it can spread through the land and people will understand who you are when it is time?"

Their conversation got interrupted by Saga entering the hut this time. "Ròðmundr wishes to meet the boy. "Do you think you two can come outside now?"Urthr nodded to her mother and looked back to the boy. The boy looked back at her and gave a nod too. "I'm ready" he said and stood up.

* * *

To the chieftain Ròðmundr, nothing seemed too special about the boy Saga and her daughter Urthr said they needed to take care of in the village. Urthr had said he wasn't completely like them and that that would become clear as time went by. Saga had reminded the chieftain of her prediction just before she had found the boy. "We won't understand what's to come, neither will our children, we just have to accept."

"He will stay with our family" Saga had stated. "If Urthr is right and he is something not completely like us, perhaps it is best that he stays with us since we are the one family here blessed with the sight. And we cannot allow people not from this village to know about him."

Luckily Ròðmundr had agreed to everything the women had said. The child had nobody else, and they could not send him back to where they came from. The lands were kind to them and they had no trouble with food so one mouth more to feed would not be a problem for them. So from that day forward it was decided that the boy with the name of Lukas would stay in the village.

* * *

[1] The life expectancy was much lower in earlier days of man than they are now. People were considered to be adults at the age of 15 and old by the age of 30. But they could reach ages up to 50 years, although that was unusual as diseases would often claim their life before such an age.


	3. Recognition

**AN:** So I received a question about how much time each chapter will cover and the answer to that is that it will vary a lot. The first chapters before the Viking Era coverer centuries as there is not that much historical events before that time, at least not that I could find.

When I get to the point where the Viking era begins, each chapter will most likely contain one historical event or one battle each. I will add the date in the headlines for the later chapters in an attempt to give an easier overview.

The first chapter was designed to (at least in my mind) give the character(s) some background before I start throwing them into battles.

I have started working on future chapter and I realize I have little information of things happening between the time of 793 – 860, so if anybody knows of anything that happened in that time period that should get attention I would love to get a PM with the name of that happening so I could research it. Otherwise I might have to skip from the attack on Lindisfarne to the unification of Norway.

* * *

**Bronze Age (1800 B.C. – 500 B.C.)**

**Recognition**

Many lifetimes of men passed by and the boy, Lukas still stayed with the people from the same village all that time. They all found it strange that the boy never seemed to grow any older while all the others followed a natural lifespan. In the village all the young children had been told that this boy was special and that they just had to accept that he was different. The boy himself refused to tell anyone anything about why he was different from them, and they all accepted the way things had always been.

The village had been changed over the years. The people had moved a couple of times, and the huts had been upgraded several times and the village had grown much larger over time. The chieftain had control over much larger areas than had been normal before. They had contacts in other smaller villages close by, and had in general much more contact with people outside their own village.

Something had stayed surprisingly much like they had been the day Lukas had walked into the village. Ròðmundr who had been chieftain at that time had also gotten a family and it was one of his descendants named Rækia that held the title as current chieftain in the village. Urthr had gotten married to a man from the village and started a family with him. The man had accepted that Lukas would live with them as a part of their family, and to this day he still lived with the descendants of Saga and Urthr.

Lukas always had people around him and they took good care of him, but he still couldn't help but feeling lonely at times. He had to keep living as a young child when people around him were born, grew up and then passed away. So there were times when he would sneak out in the forest at night to visit his old friends because they didn't die on him like the humans.

He would spend most of that time with Mose in a clearing just admiring the world around him without the human's presence. Mose was still the same old troll; he would sit quiet on his rock in the clearing just keeping the boy company. And that was fine with Lukas; he wasn't much for talking anyways.

His friendship with the fairies had been a bit tense after he had been sent to live with the humans. He had tried to tell them that he had been okay and that the humans had been good to him. But the fairies seemed to feel quite guilty for having kept him in the dark for so long, so they hadn't been the happy folk he had remembered them to be, so Lukas had chosen to spend most of his time away from the village with Mose instead, as the troll had remained the same over the years.

* * *

Life was good for all the people around his country. Lucas had developed a connection to the people over time and he could feel that they were doing well. He also noticed that he had finally started to grow a bit lately. It happened really slowly so the people living in his village almost couldn't notice as they got older so much faster than him.

But he was finally considered to be one of the older children now. When he had first come to live with the humans he had looked to be around five winters old, but now the humans said it looked like he had seen around ten instead. Now as he had grown he got to take on more responsibilities around the village. He got to help on the fields and with the livestock. And he was pleased with the way his life was going, it was peaceful and simple.

* * *

Lukas was sitting by the ocean, just breathing in the scent of the salty waters roaring as it crushed in great waves over the rocks on the beach. He could see some fishing boats in the distance heading back from a day of work out on the blue. By his side sat a young woman, around 20 winters of age. She was a descendant from Saga and had been given the name "Skuld" which means "future" because she like so many from that line before her held the gift of sight.

"Change is coming very soon now Lukas" she suddenly said after they had been sitting on the beach just watching the ocean for hours. "I saw it a couple of days ago." Lukas didn't answer, he had gotten used to being quiet over time. "You told me of Urthr and Saga when I was younger. That I share their gift, and now I think I might have seen one of them in my dream. The woman in my dream started a story about beings that look human, but are more. She said that these creatures are the spirit of their land."

Lukas turned his head to look at the girl. "That would be Urthr. She thought that a story had to exist so that the future leaders of lands would have a chance to realize that it is the spirit of their country they are looking upon if they ever meet." The boy was curious to what the girl knew. His life had been so routine for so long, and maybe just a little change could be a good thing.

"Your name isn't really Lukas? That is just a name you use so you can blend in among the rest of us because one day your other name will be the name of this country as well as your name!" The girl was talking as fast as she could to say everything in one breath, and she had big eyes focused on Lukas. He let a rare smile linger a bit on his lips as he said "you remind me of how Urthr behaved when she realized who I am. Getting all that knowledge in an instant, she wasn't sure what to think of it."

Skuld had a gigantic smile on her face, she had been fascinated by her ancestors her entire life and she was proud of having inherited the gift of sight. "Skuld" Lukas said "you said that change was coming very soon. Can you tell me what it was you saw?" Skuld's smile faded a little at the request. "There is not that much I can tell you. I saw a group of people arrive to our village and they demanded to meet the spirit of their country because his services was needed. I'm going to tell Rækia about it later"

It wasn't really much to go by at all, but the words of the ones with the gift of sight had always had a great importance and were worth paying attention to. "What do you think Lukas? Are you exited?" Skuld asked her voice cheerful. The smile on Lukas' face disappeared and his face returned to his normal blank expression. "It doesn't really matter what I think" Lukas said. For a boy that looked like he had seen only ten winters he was very serious and a bit sad. "There is nothing I can do to avoid my fate."

Skuld had never thought about that, but now she realized that the boy must feel trapped by his destiny, he had been told what he was supposed to do as long as he had been living in the village and he had been living there for many lifetimes of men. "Why haven't you just run away?" She asked and Lukas gave a sigh.

"I can't" he said. "It would be easy just to run and live in the forest; I know how to take care of myself. But I am linked to the people of this land and I need to be with them. I was told that if I ignore my duties I might cease to exist because I will no longer be the spirit of the country." "And you feel trapped?" Skuld asked. Lukas nodded "The people of this land are doing well, which is why I have grown lately. But the land in itself without the people is wild and I am stuck in this village, I just feel really restless."

The two of them remained in silence after that, just staring out at the sea before them. White foam forming on each wave crest just before the wave crashed in over land and the water disappeared back out at sea to repeat its cycle over and over again. They sat like that until the sun had sunk lower in the horizon and dyed the lands in a deep orange color.

* * *

It had been a few days since Lukas had his conversation with Skuld when the predicted change came. At first it came like a great cloud of dust just visible in the distance. As it got closer it was visible that it was a group arriving to the village on horses. The village had never seen such a great gathering of visitors. They had kept more in contact with other people from outside the village and there was established some trading routes between the villages not lying too far away, but never had so many people arrived at once.

The man riding in the front was apparently the leader of the group as his clothing had more decoration than the rest of his group had, and he carried a bronze symbol on his chest. The entire company of people gathered in the small square between the buildings and dismounted their horses. Their leader was taller than any other men gathered, and broad around the chest. Rækia was chieftain of the village, so he stepped forward to greet the strangers and welcome them.

"I have heard stories of a boy that is more than a mere human. He is the spirit of the country and I, Jòrkell wish to speak with this boy. I have heard that there in this village lives a boy that doesn't age like normal men, so I believe that this is the village where this creature can be found." Jòrkell voice was clear and booming and every single person nearby had their attention turned to him in an instant. "The people of this country may not yet be under the rule of one man, but I have been told by a wise woman of my village, that I hold rule over most land and the boy should stay with me as I sail out of this country to seek others to trade with."

Rækia stepped forward to take the word "I accept that you are the ruler of more land than I. We do indeed have this spirit of the country living with us, and he has been living among the people of this village for a long time waiting for the day came when the people would need him to act as such. Our seer has told us that if the time is right and if you are the one man supposed to take care of him then you will recognize him on your own without any aid. The leader of a country should be able to recognize his own country even if it appears in the shape of a human."

By now all the inhabitants of the village had gathered in the square between the homes build. Jòrkell had been told to search among the village people, and to prove that he could recognize his own country, he would have to be able to point out the correct person in one try. So now the chieftain was walking around among the villages just assessing and analyzing every single one of them.

He stopped in front of a young boy with dark, dull blue eyes. There was just something about this child that he couldn't quite understand. He ended up with just staring at the boy who just looked back at him with a blank expression on his face revealing no hidden emotions.

"It's you isn't it?" the chieftain asked with a voice much more quiet than the one he had used earlier. "I have never met you, but still you feel so familiar."Lukas could not deny that he felt some kind of connection to this man. He sensed that this man was indeed the strongest leader in all of the land that Lukas was connected to.

Since Jòrkell had been able to point him out among all the others present in the square he was the one the prophecies had foretold of, so Lukas could not help but confirm who he was. "I am indeed your country in a human body. You are the strongest chieftain of this land and I am at your service" Lukas said and bowed slightly for the man in front of him.

The reaction from the chieftain was not what he had expected it to be. The Large man with the stern face cracked a slight smile. "At first I had not believed the stories to be true. It was just to amazing to think that something like that was possible. One entire people and its land represented by one single person. And yet here you are, just appearing like a young boy, but to me you still seem like so much more. The chieftain's face was still touched by amazement as he finished talking.

Jòrkell put a hand on Lukas' shoulder. "What name should I call you by my boy?" the chieftain asked. "Among humans my name is Lukas" the boy replied. "But my name and the name of your country is Norðvegr." The chieftain smiled more that he had done earlier. "Norðvegr, the way to the north, that sounds just right to me."

Rækia walked up to them "so I guess that you want to bring him with you back to your own village now?" he said with just a hint of sadness in his voice. Jòrkell moved his hand from Lukas' shoulder and put it on Rækia's instead. "Yes I would" he said. "We were hoping to set sail as soon as possible. We would have gone by now, but our seer said that we should find the spirit of our country and bring him along, and the people of my village have heard that we could find him here, so we rode."

"Can I at least offer you and your people some food before you leave? And give the boy a chance to say his goodbyes" Rækia offered. Jòrkell nodded slowly, "that would be greatly appreciated." "Then we will get you something to eat" Rækia said and his words were enough to send some of the people present running to find something to serve their guests.

* * *

Lukas took the chance to walk around the village one last time before he was to leave with Jòrkell and his men to their village. He didn't have a lot to people to say goodbye too. He had never gotten too close to any of the other villagers because they would all pass away before him and he had gotten tired of having friends getting old and dying before him. But he went to say goodbye to Skuld, he had always been closest to the entire lineage after Saga and Urthr since he had stayed with their family for as long as he had been living with the humans.

Skuld had given him a hug with tears staining her face but a smile grazing her lips. "I have heard of the prediction Saga came with the day you first arrived to stay with our people. She said that something great was coming, and I believe that she was right. One day you will become great Lukas. The country of Norðvegr will have its place in history." When Skuld finally let him go of the embrace he had a hard time keeping his tears back.

When he got away from Skuld he made sure that nobody was looking and then ran to the outskirts of the forest close by. He used some of his inner energy to send a silent, magical call out in the forest. It didn't take too long before a few fairies showed up between the branches. "You're moving away from this village" one of them said. Somehow the fairies seemed to know things before Lukas found out of them himself.

He nodded to confirm. "So I'm no longer just considered to be the boy that doesn't grow up. I can finally do what I'm supposed to. Earlier I felt trapped by having a fate, but now I'm looking forward to the task." The fairies that had showed up, smiled secretly at him as usual hiding their knowledge for the world around him.

"Your connection to your people has grown a lot stronger after you started living with some of them. If most of your people share the same emotional state, then you will be tapped in to their emotion. If they are doing well so are you" one of them chirped in a light voice. Lukas nodded more "I think I know. The village has gotten more contacts around the land, and there are more people around than it used to be and I've grown."

The fairies smiled and giggled some. They were acting more like they had used to before they had told Lukas about his fate. "We wish you the best of luck Lukas. If you ever need help from any of us, you know how to get a hold of us. But I think you need to go back now before the humans think you have run off somewhere." One of the fairies giggled madly and flew a couple of rounds around Lukas' head.

"Yes, I'll go" Lukas said and turned around to walk back to the village where Jòrkell and his people should be done with their meal soon enough. Lukas didn't have any things he needed to pack, so he would be ready to leave as soon as the others told him they would leave.

It was perfect timing for Lukas. Jòrkell and his people were just finishing their meal as Lukas entered the village square. "I thank you Rækia, chieftain of this village for the good welcome and for the meal. I wish you a good life in years to come." Jòrkell clearly had his way with words; possessing a silver tongue capable of gaining him favors from pretty much anybody. The he noticed the boy walking towards them. "Bergfinnr!" Jòrkell said loudly. "Can you bring the horse for Lukas here? We should be leaving now"

It didn't take a long time before a young man, slighter built than his chieftain and with dark hair came walking to Lukas with a horse in tow. "Have you ever ridden a horse before my boy?" Jòrkell asked. Lukas shook his head as he walked up to the big creature before him. They had horses in the village, but he had never really gone on a ride. The horses were mostly just used to plow the field or for trading journeys between the villages.

"Well, then it's time you learn" Jòrkell stated. He had no trouble lifting the boy up on the horse to place him in the saddle. "Just hold on to the reigns and don't fall of. We will all ride together so the horse will just follow after the others, so you don't need to worry about steering."

The man named Bergfinnr was still holding on to the reigns but he gave them to Lukas after another man came with a different horse for Jòrkell and he swung himself easily into the saddle on his own horse. The rest of the men got on their own horses and soon enough they were on their way with Jòrkell riding in the front. Lukas was just sitting on his horse further back in the company, his horse trotting happily after the others.

* * *

The sun hung low in the horizon when they finally closed in on what had to be Jòrkell's village. They had spent hours riding through a dark forest consisting of birch trees and at the base of a high mountain leaving them in shadow, hidden from the sun. And now they had finally arrived at their destination for the day. It had been a long ride, Lukas felt sore all over after bouncing around on horseback large portions of the day without really having any control of the animal. The men riding with him didn't tell him a technique for riding without bouncing uncontrollably until they had almost reached their destination.

This village was much bigger that the one Lukas had lived in before. They had much larger areas of farmland and a bigger herd of livestock walking around in an enclosure and they had more longhouses instead of smaller huts. This village was also built right next to the ocean just like his village. One of the men in Lukas' old village had told him once that most villages were build by the sea because it gave easy access to plenty of fish.

Out on the dark blue waters there were a couple of ships rocking in harmony with the waves. There was one ship much larger than all of the others that were clearly fishing boats. Lukas figured that had to be the ship they would sail with to the south. The people of his lands had first arrived to this country by sea, and living right next to the blue majesty they had long ago mastered the technique of building great sturdy ships capable of traveling over great distances as long as it was good people behind the oars and the winds were in their favor.

During their ride Bergfinnr had told Lukas that the ship had been ready to sail for a long time, but they had delayed their journey once the village seer had said that the spirit of the country should come along. They had decided that they would wait one lunar cycle to search for him, and if they didn't within that time they would sail without finding him. It had only taken them a few days to hear the story of the Boy living in one of the villages to the north.

Jòrkell slowed down his horse just a little so that he could ride side by side with Lukas. "We will set sail on the day after tomorrow. There is a woman in the village that can take care of you until then. I hope that will be okay for you." "Yes master" Lukas replied trying to act the way Rækia had done back in the other village, putting respect in his words. Jòrkell chuckled, "there is no need for you to call me master. If anyone here should be called master it would be you. You have after all seen more winters than any man alive, and one should have respect for ones elder."

Lukas wrinkled his nose slightly. He realized he didn't really like being referred to as an elder. His body was still looking like the one of a boy of ten winters. He wondered if every leader of the country would refer to him in such a matter. He wondered if it was better to be considered an elder than it was to be treated like the child he looked like.

When they rode in between the huts and longhouses people started gathering around the company of men. Young children ran alongside the horses yelling and laughing as they ran. The company halted as soon as they entered the village square and the men jumped of their horses. Jòrkell walked over to Lukas still on his horse to help him of, placing him carefully on the ground.

A fairly young woman walked up to Jòrkell. Bring this boy to Arnfasta. Tell her to give him food, and a place to sleep." Jòrkell patted Lukas' shoulder and gave the reigns of his horse to a man in the crowd of people gathered before he walked off towards the largest longhouse in sight.

The woman didn't say anything; she just brushed her hand against his arm to lead him toward a longhouse. As Lukas followed the woman he could feel curious looks from the crowd gathered boring into his back, making him feel slightly uncomfortable with the entire situation. He wondered how much they knew about him,

They entered a smaller longhouse and were greeted by an elderly woman with a friendly smile on her face. There were a few other people in the longhouse, some tending the fireplace and stirring in a large pot and others sitting by the table eating. The woman that had brought Lukas to the longhouse started talking to the old woman so he guessed that had to be Arnfasta.

"Jòrkell told me to bring the boy to you" she said. The old woman nodded and then turned to Lukas and bent her knees slightly so she was on an eyelevel with him. "Hi" she said with a slight creaking in her voice that was so normal with elder people. "I'm Arnfasta, what's your name young one?"

Lukas figured it was best to use his human name. It was probably less confusing for everybody if he used that name. "I'm Lukas" he said silently. Arnfasta looked a bit curious at him as she started talking again. "Never have I heard a name like that before. But it's a nice name. If I know Jòrkell correctly then you didn't have any stops on your way here, you are probably hungry." Lukas nodded quickly. He hadn't had any appetite to eat anything before he left and he had been too busy talking to Skuld and the fairies.

Arnfasta held out her arms toward a table close to the fireplace and gave him a small encouraging pat on the back. So Lukas walked over and took a seat by the table and it didn't take long before Arnfasta had gotten him a steaming bowl of stew, a piece of bread and a mug of water.

It wasn't until he started eating when he realized how starving he really was. So now he was hungrily devouring his meal. He shuffled in on the dark moose meat from the stew and dipped the bread in the broth. Arnfasta sat down on the other side of the table just observing him and smiling slightly. The old woman thought it was good to see that the slight built boy at least had a healthy appetite.

When every single trace of food had vanished from the bowl Arnfasta waved over another girl in the longhouse to clean up. "It's getting late" she said. "I will show you where you will sleep before you go with the men south. There is a lot we have to do before the boat can sail, so all of us should gather our strength" Lukas only nodded to the only woman, not knowing what to say to her anyways.

He just followed after the old woman as she showed him to another room through a small doorway all the way back in the longhouse. In the room there were a couple of beds along the wall, all of them empty for some reason. "Just pick a bed and I'll see you in the morning" Arnfasta said and walked back out again.

Lukas was tired so he decided it might be wise to do as the old woman had told him, gather strength for the day to come. So he tore of his worn leather boots and set them down neatly by his bed. For some reason they were a nightmare to get off, but he didn't think anything of it. He took of the leather west he had kept on outside of his tunic. He figured he could sleep in the tunic he was wearing.

The warm season was still upon the land, but that didn't stop the night from having a bite of cold in them, so Lukas had gotten used to sleep wearing a fair amount of clothing. The day had been long, and his body ached from the long ride, so sleep came easily upon him and sent him in to the realms of dreams and mystery.

* * *

He didn't know how long he had slept at all, when he woke up he could hear a great number of voices originating from the other room where the fireplace was. He tossed aside the furs he had slept under and stood up on the floor of hard stamped dirt. Something was not entirely right. He could have sworn that his tunic had been long enough to cover his knees, but now it reached only halfway down his thighs. He reached for his boots but they were too small to pull on.

There were no other clothes in the room so he didn't have a choice but to wander in to the other room on bare feet and legs exposed to the cold morning air because the fire had not been burning long enough to warm up the entire longhouse yet. At first nobody noticed him; everyone was too busy with the meal in front of them. But after a while one of the men noticed him. "Aren't you feeling a little cold there boy?" one of them said loudly and some of the other people present noticed him standing there just a few steps away from the doorway.

Arnfasta seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Good morning there" she said and lifted an eyebrow when she saw his lack of proper clothing. "Is there a reason for you not wearing more than a tunic?" she asked with a hint of humor toning her voice. "My other clothes don't fit me anymore" Lukas whispered quietly. "It didn't look like your clothes were too small yesterday" all hit of humor was gone from Arnfasta's voice when she answered.

"My clothes did fit me yesterday, but now they don't" Lukas answered still whispering. The old woman looked him over a second time scrutinizing his looks. She knew it wasn't possible for a normal child to grow that fast, but this child did seem taller than he had the other day. "Then I guess we will have to find you something more suitable later, but first let's get you some breakfast."

She let him to the edge of the table where he sat down. Like the day before she went to get him a bowl of food, this time he got a bowl of porridge sweetened with berries, and he ate it with good appetite. None of the other people present really bothered talking to him. That was the side effect of having a young body; people automatically assumed that someone with the body of a child would have a mind to match the body, and they would leave him out of conversations.

Arnfasta had yet again decided observe him as he ate so as soon as Lukas had emptied the bowl she rose up. "Let's find you some new clothes then" she said and started leading him outdoors. The earth was cold beneath his bare feet and the morning breeze threatened to take too good a hold on the too short tunic he was wearing. Luckily they only walked over to a nearby longhouse and the wind didn't manage to wreak havoc upon his clothing.

This longhouse was furnished with a great amount of chests along the walls, and had a much smaller table than the last one, and instead of a large group of men eating only two women was present. "The ship is set to leave tomorrow so we don't have time to make you any new clothes so we have to check and see if we can find something in here that fits you" Arnfasta said.

"Can you two help me find something for our guest to wear?" Arnfasta directed the request at the two women in the room. The both nodded, looked Lukas over and began searching through the chests at the wall. They dropped a pile of garments on the floor in front of him.

The women were merciless, and took them mere seconds before they had him stripped of the old tunic. They started forcing him into new tunics until they found one that fit him three attempts later. The next item on their list was to fit him into a pair of boots, and they tied a rope belt around his waist. "Now all that's missing is a cloak" one of the women said triumphantly.

"We should have one hidden in one of these chests here" the other one answered. "I'll find it" Arnfasta said before she started rummage through one of the chests that had been left unopened until then. Out of it she pulled a thick woolen cloak with furs lining the neck for extra warmth. "Let's see if this one fits you." Arnfasta shook the cloak to rid it of all the dust adorning it and donned it over Lukas' shoulder.

Arnfasta and the other women smiled gently at him admiring their work when the cloak was securely fastened. "It fits you just perfectly. You will make a great impression on the people you will meet in the south." Arnfasta said "There is still many hours left of today, you are free to explore the village as long as you return for dinner."

And with that Arnfasta let him walk around on his own. Lukas immediately went down to the harbor to admire the ship he was going to travel with. The beach was flooded with men loading supplies on the ship, readying it for the long journey ahead. He spent some time walking around aimlessly between the buildings studying the people living in the village. How the women were tending to the fields and the elder boys were looking after the livestock. He was out all day and returned to the longhouse only when the smell of food spread itself around. He ate his dinner, had a talk with Jòrkell about the morning and then he went to sleep.

* * *

As morning came he was woken by Arnfasta shaking him in the shoulder. "It's time for breakfast and then the ship is ready to leave." Lukas decided for himself that the old lady did definitely not have a way with words. She would just say what she needed to and then leave. He got up and dressed himself before he went to the next room to eat his breakfast.

And then it was finally time to board the ship and set sail. Lukas had to admit that he was beginning to be a little excited about going with Jòrkell and his men to the south. They had boats in his old village, but he had never really been allowed to go with the men out on the sea, even just for fishing. He might be older than any of the men in all of his country. They said it was for his own protection, they couldn't risk any harm coming to him.

Lukas had been told by the fairies that he would be alive as long as he had a people and lands, but it wasn't really easy to explain to a bunch of villagers. That he would survive it if he fell out of the boat and drowned. It was hard enough for them to believe that he could exist at all, so they were afraid of allowing him to do anything that could be considered dangerous. So Lukas had given op being allowed out at sea, but in the night he would sneak out just to swim in the salty, blue waters. His people were masters of the seas so off course he would be too, so he enjoyed just spending time by the waters.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry for the abrupt ending, the next chapter will start approximately where this one ends...

This chapter was starting to run berserk when it came to length so I saw a need to stop it before it went to far...

But words of comfort: The next chapter is as good as ready (lacking some finsihing touches) and I will post it in a week, and hopefully I will "see" you then ^^


	4. Northern trio

**AN: **As the chapter title reveals we will finally meet some more nations… Denmark and Sweden to be precise, and I realize that my Denmark definitely has the capability of getting in to a lot of trouble. I think that makes him fun, all the crazy ideas and the insane logic that definitely does not make sense to anybody but himself.

The whole Swedish accent thing… I'm not going to do that. For one I have no idea of how to do it properly and understandably and there should be no reason for a specific accent when they all should speak more or less the same kind of old Norse language so I'm going to use that as an excuse for now.

* * *

**Northern Trio**

They had spent days out at sea, sailing through rain and wind, slowly but surely getting closer to their destination first sailing along the coast of their own land before crossing the ocean to the land to the south of them. The men on the ship taught Lukas everything they knew about sailing so that he could help out on their journey. He learned quickly so on the few days on their journey south he became quite familiar with the way of the ship, knowing how to handle the sail and tie the proper knots necessary.

It was early morning when they first saw land far in the distance. The men onboard started to get excited. Just sailing the ocean was nice in itself, the salty smell in the air as the wind would rush past their faces and send strands of hair flying in every direction possible. But feeling the solid ground beneath ones feet was always nice after having spent days with rocky floorboards as the most solid thing available to set feet on. It would only take them a few hours before their boat would touch sand.

This land looked nothing like the one they had left on the northern side of the ocean. Norway had great mountains falling and rising in high peaks and deep valleys, this land however was flat. Not a single mountain in sight as far as their eyes could see. There was barely any land high enough to be classified as a hill.

Lukas could feel it in his body; this was definitely like his own land. It didn't feel right. He figured it had to be a side effect of being the personification of a country. His own lands would feel like home and others would just feel foreign and wrong. And the country being all flat was so unfamiliar; he already missed the tall and mighty mountains surrounding him.

"Not long until we can go ashore" Jòrkell said as they had gotten even closer "it's not far to go now. Tie up the sail people! All men to the oars! We are rowing the last distance." And the men shuffled to obey their chieftain's orders. The sails were quickly lifted and secured and the men were stationed at the oars. Lukas was the only young one on board and compared to the other men he didn't have enough body mass to pair up at the oars with the others. So he positioned himself at the bow of the ship to observe as they drew closer to land.

* * *

When there was only about a hundred meters left to row, a company of men on horses gathered on the shore to observe them as the ship slid smoothly over the dark ocean surface and at last touched ground. Jòrkell and his men jumped out of the ship and waded through the water, some of them with ropes so they could secure the ship on land. Lukas jumped of the ship as well, the water reach him well up to his thighs so he had to fight quite a bit against the currents to not fall over.

The men standing on the shore didn't move other than dismount their horses and just watched as the Norsemen secured their ship and gathered on the beach in front of them with boots and leg wear dripping with water. Then the tallest and broadest of the awaiting company stepped forward to greet the strangers. "You see before you Leikr, the chieftain of this area. State your business here!" He ordered sharply but not angry.

Jòrkell stepped forward to show that he was the leader of his people. "I am Jòrkell, chieftain of large portions of the country of Norðvegr. We have sailed south over the seas in hope to start trade" The man named Leikr gave a courteous nod to show that he accepted the explanation. "Then I welcome you people of the north to mark of the Danes. We can discuss possibilities of trade over a mug of mead back in the village if that pleases you."

This time it was Jòrkell's turn to nod in approval. "That sounds like an excellent offer" he stretched out a hand and Leikr shook it to show that they were in agreement. "We are a little short of space in our village at the moment, so your men should bring furs and cloak so they can sleep good tonight" Leikr warned. Jòrkell only lifted an eyebrow in question.

"We got other visitors just a few days ago you see, and they still haven't left yet. They claimed to be from the realm of the Svea, to the northeast" Leikr explained. "I see" Jòrkell answered. "Men! Do as he says, we bring furs and cloaks with us." A few of the men moved to the boat, wading through the water and started tossing bundles of furs to the men still standing on land.

That's when the Danish leader discovered Lukas, who had been partially hidden behind the taller men in the company up until now. "Well, well. What have we got here?" he asked while walking towards Lukas who didn't dare to answer. Jòrkell luckily stepped in for him. "That would be Lukas" Jòrkell said simply. "I wanted the boy to learn about trading so I brought him with me." A slight lie, but it was not like they could expose Lukas for what he was.

To Lukas surprise, Leikr bent down slightly so they got on an eyelevel. "I would believe that a child your age would rather play instead of listen to grownups talk about trading. There are some children your back in the village about your age, I'm sure they would like to meet you." Leikr laughed and ruffled Lukas' hair so his bangs ended up covering his eyes. And then Leikr stood up again and gave a signal for his people and the Norsemen to follow him.

Lukas brushed his hair back so he could actually see something again. He looked to Jòrkell for guidance and the man jerked his head in the direction of the Danish chieftain as a signal to follow the group. He almost had to jog to keep up with the longer stride of the older men, and his clothes still dripped heavily of water and left wet tracks wherever he sat down his feet.

* * *

They walked along a path of hard-stepped grass in the middle of a wide green field. Since there were no mountains to obscure the view, it was possible to spot smoke rising from fireplaces in the village. And it didn't take a lot of walking until they could hear the sounds of people going about their business.

Lukas was absorbed in his own thoughts as they walked. The two chieftains were already busy in some sort of discussion, and nobody else had a mind to include the boy in their conversation. He had noticed that they all spoke the same language, only with a little difference in accents, he found that a bit strange as they lived on different sides of an ocean. But now they didn't have to worry about not understanding each other.

Lukas hadn't cared about follow any of the conversations, so he barely noticed when the chieftains turned their attention to him. "Lukas" it was Jòrkell talking. "Leikr said that there was a young boy arriving with the other people visiting this village, and he was thinking that you might like to stay with him and some other boys in one of the longhouses during our stay here."

For Lukas it didn't really matter where he slept, so staying with boys his own age sounded more tempting than staying with the men from his town. He had spent enough days on the ship with them to know that most of them snored so loud it made a group of angry trolls fighting sound like fairies song in comparison. "I would like that very much" Lukas said politely to the Dane.

"Then so let it be" the Danish chieftain said and smiled before he suddenly screamed "Matthias! Come here!" It took only a few seconds before hasty footsteps could be heard outside and a boy ran in the door almost tripping over his own feet as he entered the room. "Whatever it is you think I did, I swear I didn't do it" he almost yelled at the chieftain now standing before him. The boy apparently called Matthias looked only a little older than Lukas did. He was a bit taller and his blonde hair was slightly darker than Lukas'. There was a big difference in hairstyle though. Lukas' was straight and fine, but this boys hair were pointing in pretty much every direction possible.

Leikr sighed "you are aware that a statement like that only makes me more suspicious of you?" The boy simply grinned back at his chieftain with mischief practically glinting in his eyes. Leikr gave yet another sigh. "I didn't ask you here because I thought you did something wrong. I just wanted you to bring Lukas here to the longhouse where you and the other boys are sleeping" he pointed at Lukas who was just staring at them not sure of what to think about these people.

The boy shifted his gaze towards Lukas and smiled even brighter before he was standing right in front of Lukas three steps later way to close for comfort."Hi" he said almost yelling "I'm Matthias. We are going to be the best friends ever!" And then he laughed extremely loud. Lukas was wondering if there was any way he could escape this place before his hearing went out. Then the boy grabbed his arm and practically dragged Lukas along with him.

"Just you wait" the boy stated. "We are going to have so much fun." Lukas was starting to get the feeling that if he wasn't being followed from one place to another he was being dragged. He was already missing the quiet life back in the village with Skuld. Being dragged to a new village back in Norðvegr had been bad enough. But he was then forced to travel over the sea to a new country and now a really loud Danish boy was dragging him around.

* * *

The longhouse they entered was empty except from one boy roughly Matthias' age and around the same height. "Sverige!" Matthias screamed and caused the other boy in the room to flinch visibly. "Look what I brought" Matthias was acting like an overly excitable dog that had just found something interesting it wanted to show off.

The other boy sighed and turned around and glared at Matthias who didn't seem to notice at all. "This is Lukas. He's our new best friend." The Dane did definitely not have a problem with talking, but he did have a problem with understanding what people thought of him. Lukas decided it was time to claim his arm back and jerked his limb back, for so to shuffle as far away from both boys as the room allowed. There was no telling what Matthias' next action would be, and since the other boy was still scowling he didn't look like he really wanted to have anything to do with any of them.

Matthias still hadn't taken the hint, and apparently decided to keep on talking. "Don't worry about him" he looked at Lukas and nodded towards the other boy Matthias had called Sverige. "He always looks like that, he's the most boring kid I've ever met, and I've met a lot." The other boy got a bit of a nervous look on his face "Matthias" he said warningly "you are saying too much."

"No I'm not" Matthias whined. "He's like us. I just know it." Lukas gasped, and Matthias grinned when he saw his reaction. "Hah!" he yelled "I was right, he is another country." The other boy switched from scowling at Matthias to staring at Lukas instead, taking in every piece of information available by looks. Matthias was busy at doing some form of freestyle dancing around the longhouse, celebrating his discovery.

"So" the other boy said "is he right?" Lukas nodded in response. The meeting with Matthias had been to shocking for him to analyze his surroundings, and he hadn't thought to actually meet any other countries. Now he let his senses roam free and he could pick up that the others were indeed more than mere humans, they had probably spent as many years on this earth as he had if not more.

"So you both are countries then?" he asked silently. "You bet we are" Matthias said, not lowering his voice at all. "I'm Denmark[1]" he said, and there was no mistaking the pride in his voice. "But the old folks around here call this land Mark of the Danes, but as you realized among the humans I go by the name of Matthias."

The other boy sent a glare in Matthias' direction and then turned towards Lukas again. His facial features softened a bit, but his expression still looked stern, especially for a boy his age. "I'm Sviþjòð, but my human name is Berwald." And that was all he seemed willing to say.

Once again Matthias decided to interrupt. "Both those names are just impossible to pronounce, I just call him Sverige instead. The men he came with said he came from the Realm of the Svea, and that can be shortened to Svearige[2] and then become Sverige[3]. Isn't it just genius?" And then he let loose one more of his apparently characteristic laughs and bounced on the spot. "And now it's your turn." He stared at Lukas. "What's your real name?"

"Among the humans I'm known as Lukas, but my real name is Norðvegr which means the way north" Lukas said quietly. Matthias blinked a couple of times before he answered. "I think you need a nickname too, your real one is too difficult."For a few seconds Matthias replaced his smile with a look of pure concentration. "So your people came from the north so you are from a northern realm. Nordrige, so then I can just call you Norge[4]!" Matthias grinned again, he definitely seemed happy with himself, thinking the names were ingenious.

Lukas had already begun to get tired of this guy. "I don't know about Sviþjòð, but I would sure like to be called by my real name for once, since we are all countries." "Well aren't you a grumpy one" Matthias said disapprovingly. "You and Sverige both own no sense of humor."

Lukas followed the Swede's example and started scowling. "And it isn't that creative to use the same logic on both of our nicknames anyways." He said trying to use as much bite in his voice as possible in hope to discourage the Dane, but he had no such luck. "You are only jealous because you didn't come up with it first" Matthias said proudly and puffed out his chest.

"I think maybe Norðvegr have a point" Berwald said. "We all got brought here because our people had business with each other, so we should speak to each other as nations and not as though we are human." Matthias stared at the Swede, mouth wide open. "I think that is the longest sentence I have ever heard you say since you got here."

"Did you even listen to what he said?" Lukas asked angrily. "Nah" Matthias said. "I was too surprised to hear him speak more than two words, so I didn't really catch what he said." And then the Dane for no apparent reason started laughing again. "I'm just joking with you guys. But I don't really see why we have to take it so seriously."

Lukas walked over to stand next to Berwald, since the two of them seemed to share the same opinion of the Dane. "How idiotic is it possible to be?" Lukas asked the other boy quietly and received a hum and a shrug of shoulders as an answer. The Norwegian and the Swede observed as the Dane had found something else to temporary occupy his attention.

"Has he been this way ever since you got here?" Lukas asked. "Yup" Berwald answered and slowly nodded his head. Lukas sighed "and we will have to put up with him if our people are to keep trading with these Danes" "Yeah" Berwald answered. "There is no getting around it."

As the two of them were standing by themselves thinking about how much the Dane was annoying them, the source of their irritation was running around the longhouse. One moment he was chasing a dog that had previously been hiding under a table and the next going through an array of apparently self made battle moves, using a stick as a weapon yelling random battle cries.

All of a sudden the Dane ran up to the two more silent nations again smiling brightly and with blue eyes sparkling. "Since our people are going to be trading from now on, the three of us are probably going to see each other a lot, and we can be best of friends." This caused Berwald to frown, and Lukas just kept his expression blank. They did not want to encourage the Dane in any way at all. But the Dane himself didn't seem to notice their lack of excitement and flung himself at them to embrace them in a hug.

* * *

The three of them spent the rest of the day together. The Dane seemed to never run out of energy as he dragged the other two boys around the village and the areas around. Mostly Lukas was the one being dragged along as the Dane had no problems with dragging the slighter build Norwegian boy after him.

The Swede was larger built and too heavy for Matthias to drag after him especially when he had Lukas to drag with him as well, but he had no such luck. Matthias had started begging and whining and refused to go anywhere if the Swede would not follow, so in order to get the Dane to shut up, he agreed to come with them as they wandered around the areas surrounding the village.

* * *

As the sun set and darkness started covering the land the scent of food started to spread itself around the village and also attracting the attention of the three young countries roaming around. With growling bellies they returned back in hope of receiving supper before they could get some rest after a long day.

The chieftains had gathered outside of the main longhouse to wait as the personifications of their countries returned. Since the personification was represented as children around the age of ten to twelve winters of age they felt that they had a responsibility to look after them and make sure they were alright.

All of the chieftains were surprised to see the three young boys return more or less covered in mud. The Swedish youngster looked extremely infuriated walking back to the longhouse with boots covered in mud and dark splotches on his tunic. The Norwegian didn't look much happier although most of his clothing had the escaped the dirt. The sleeves on the tunic were covered and he had traces of it in his hair making it appear a couple of shades darker than normal, other than that he had escaped the mud completely.

The Dane however was a completely different story; he was as good as completely covered, but he was smiling nonetheless. His hair had previously been standing in every single direction possibly, but now it was glued to his head by the mud, and his clothes were dripping mud for every step he took.

The Danish chieftain was the one looking least surprised as they got to see the state of the three boys. He sighed loudly as soon as they got in to audible range. "I should have known you would cause trouble in one way or another, but did you have to drag the others to the mud pit? Because I am correct in assuming that you are the one responsible?" Matthias grinned in response, effectively proving his guilt.

Leikr crossed his arms and looked at his country's personification with a slight frown. "What is the reason for all of you coming back in such a state? The pit itself does not spit mud at its visitors, so what is the reason for the state of your clothing?" Lukas stayed silent, but Berwald growled angrily and pointed a finger at Matthias, something that did not come as a surprise for the Danish chieftain.

"Matthias started a mud war" Berwald said silently and sent a glare at the Danish boy. "Well that explains the dirt on Berwald's tunic, but it does not explain how Matthias here was able to get this dirty" Leikr said with anger toning his voice. "Norge pushed me" Matthias hollered. All three of the grow men stared at him in confusion as they hadn't heard that name before. "You deserved it" Lukas snapped, and answered the question of who went under the name of Norge. "And I did help you up again afterwards instead of just leaving you behind like I wanted to." Lukas said defensively.

"I don't think any of you will be allowed in the longhouse for supper before you have ridden yourselves of the mud" assumingly the Swedish chieftain said. "But I'm hungry now" Matthias whined, and Lukas sighed. "Well then you better hurry up!" Leikr growled at the boys "And Matthias, if you make any more mess with the water than you managed to do with the mud you're spending your night in the stables."

* * *

Matthias grumbled but showed the other two boys to a longhouse where they had access to a couple of buckets of water and a chest filled with clean clothing. Matthias quickly shed the mud covered clothes and dumped them in a pile on the floor, not showing any signs that he would take care of them at one point or another.

His idea of washing up was not very impressive either. To get the mud out of his hair he dipped his whole head in a bucket of water and held it under for a few seconds. And his method of drying was an attempt of shaking the water of, very much like a dog would do. The end result was better than the original version, and as soon as he put on some clean clothing he could almost be mistaken for looking respectable, that was if you chose to ignore the dark streaks of mud still clinging on to the blond strands of hair.

Lukas was also forced to dip his head partially in a bucket of water to get the mud out of his hair. He had been able to dodge the mud thrown during the fight, but as they had returned to the village the then mud covered Dane had decided to ruffle his hair and thereby leaving it dirty. Lukas had started to wonder why the Danes seemed to have such an obsession with his hair and being unable to leave it alone.

Berwald only had to change his tunic and his boots and he was ready for supper. Lukas didn't care to change his, so he just washed of his sleeves and figured he could survive with wet sleeves for a couple of hours until they would dry off. And by that they were all as decent as could be expected, so they decided to go in search of the promised supper.

* * *

As the trio entered the longhouse where supper was supposed to be served, they were hit by an extreme level of noise. Men were shouting and laughing passing drinking horns between each other. "Ah, the lovely effects of mead" Matthias sighed blissfully as he took a deep breath inhaling as much as the sweet and alcoholic scent lingering in the air and looked around on the smiling faces seen all around them.

There was one table along the wall where the older children and the younger men were gathered. There were no younger children present, most of them had probably been sent to bed for the night. So Matthias dragged the other two to that table and pushed them down in some free seats.

Food was standing on the table so Berwald and Lukas figured they could just eat to their hearts content. Matthias on the other hand disappeared off somewhere, where to the others would not know. "He's going to get us in trouble again" Berwald mumbled silently and gave a glare to his plate of food. Lukas nodded thoughtfully, from what he had seen so far the Dane certainly seemed to have a nose for getting into trouble.

When Matthias returned a few minutes later, it turned out that he had indeed been in search of trouble because he returned carrying a very suspiciously looking mug smelling faintly of honey. "Are you insane?!" Lukas snarled silently at Matthias "Your chieftain will be furious if he catches you drinking that." "But only if he catches me" Matthias said with a grin and took a swig from the mug.

"You want some Norge" Matthias cooed in an overly sweet voice and held the mug right under Lukas' nose. Lukas was quick to show the cup away. "Absolutely not" he growled "get that away from me." Matthias put a hurt look on his face and gasped dramatically as he started cradling the mug of mead before he started talking to it. "Don't listen to what the angry Norwegian says, I still love you" he whispered softly to his beverage. Berwald and Lukas both raised an eyebrow to this behavior.

"How much does it take to be affected by that stuff?" Lukas asked Berwald. They both stared at the Dane who acted very much like he was in love with his drink. "I don't think he's drunk yet" the Swede answered. "I just think he's naturally stupid." The Dane either didn't hear the comment or he completely ignored it because he went on drinking occasionally casting a glace around him to make sure no chieftains was close enough to catch him drinking the so called brew of the gods only meant for the older members of the village.

"This drink is awesome" the Dane suddenly exclaimed after his cup was emptied "I'm getting more." And before the other two boys had a chance to stop him he was gone between the crowd. "What should we do now?" Lukas asked. The Swede shrugged his shoulders "It's not our problem if he gets caught."

"I wouldn't care if it didn't affect us, but for all we know we're all going to blamed for his idiocy. I should have drowned him in the mud when I had the chance." The last part Lukas muttered to himself as he rose up to search for the Dane hoping he could prevent him from doing something stupid that could in some way affect him if the chieftains found out.

* * *

The Dane had managed to get hold of another cup of mead when Lukas found him after a quick search around the longhouse. Lukas grabbed a hold of the Danes arm and dragged him back to their table without saying a single word. The Dane slumped down on the bench and started working on his drink immediately oblivious to the angry looks from the Norwegian and the Swede seated on the other side of the table.

The two unaffected younglings stayed quiet for a while observing the Dane who had begun giggling for no reason. "Why don't you two smile some?" he asked, his voice already slurred from the one and a half mug of mead. "Everything is so nice and you are sitting the looking like you just drank spoiled milk" then he proceeded to laugh extremely loud in a way that started to attract attention from people sitting closest to them.

"That's enough!" Lukas growled and reached for the mug now almost completely empty. "No" the Dane whined loudly "It's mine." The Swede finally figured it was time for him to take action as well. "Lukas is right Matthias. You've had enough." He rose up and grabbed a hold on the Dane and started dragging him away from the table and to a room where they could find a bed to dump him on.

Berwald and Matthias were roughly the same size, but the Dane was really not in any condition to challenge the Swede in physical strength at the moment as he had become quite affected by the golden drink, so he soon gave up the battle of getting back to his beloved mead. But he whined and pouted as he was dragged against his will towards the bedchambers.

"I don't want to go to bed yet" he whined "I want to have fun. Sleep is no fun." Berwald grumbled loudly and Lukas sighed. "You have had enough fun to last all of us a while now." Lukas said angrily. "You drag us around wherever you want to go, the mud pit being one of the places. You get us all covered in mud and yelled at and then you top the day of with getting drunk. The only way to avoid more trouble is to get you put to bed."

They finally reached a free bed and Berwald shoved the drunken Dane on it, before he quickly left in search for his own bed leaving Lukas alone with Matthias. Matthias made a move to get up from the bed but Lukas shoved him back down in the furs "If you try to get away one more time I will tie you to this bed, I will have no more of your idiocy for today" he grumbled.

The Dane winced at his words "Please don't be angry with me. I didn't mean to make you angry I just wanted to make you smile." The drunken words both confused and angered the Norwegian. "That wasn't really the right way to go if that was the goal" the Norwegian said quietly trying to keep the worst edge out of his voice as the Dane seemed on the verge of crying.

"You and Sverige are the first other countries I've met and he's been all silent and angry looking for the last two days, so when you came I thought we could have some fun together." The drunken Dane started hugging his pillow as he went on with his speech. "I didn't think anything would look funnier than a scowling Swede covered in mud, that's why I started the fight." Then he gave a short laugh and a snort at the thought. "It didn't even cross my mind that you two would both hate mud."

Lukas didn't know what to do. The Dane in front of him kept on talking, and in a very short amount of time he showed a great number of different emotions. Lukas was almost considering to just whacking him over the head with something and thereby making sure he would stay quiet for a couple of hours. But as the Dane started to sweet talking to his pillow Lukas figured he would most likely fall asleep soon enough on his own.

And Lukas was right. It didn't take many minutes before he could hear a soft snoring coming from the Danish boy. He figured the Matthias would be fine on his own from this point forward so he left to follow Berwald's example and find a free bed of his own.

* * *

As Lukas was lying in a bed he found, snuggled in the furs available he thought over some of the things Matthias had said. Surprisingly some parts of the drunken speech had made quite a bit of sense to Lukas, especially what he had said about how Berwald and he himself had been the first other countries he had met. Lukas recognized that feeling. This was after all the first time he as well met somebody who was a country like himself.

He felt a faint sting of guilt pierce his gut. All three of them had grown up until now without anybody like themselves, living among humans that grew up only to die around them. Lukas had at least had the fairies and trolls that shared a long lifecycle with him, but he doubted that the other two were as lucky as him.

But still Lukas was not willing to forgive the Dane anytime soon for acting like an idiot, even if he had done it in order to befriend them. Loneliness was not a good enough reason to act in such a way because Berwald had probably been the only one of his kind for quite a while as well and he had been perfectly capable of acting in a normal fashion when they met. The Swede hadn't spoken much, and he looked overly serious most of the time, but to Lukas that was absolutely acceptable as he wasn't that much for talking himself.

All three of them had lived for a long time already, but they were still young in mind and body even though their souls were old. A long time ago the fairies had told Lukas that the capacity of his mind would mostly match the body he possessed. And his body would grow older along with how his people matured and grew into a real nation.

Lukas wondered if the Dane would grow out of his childish tendencies over time. They had only spent half of a day together and Lukas was already annoyed out of his mind, feeling like he was on the verge of going insane. But even the least well behaving of children could grow up to be reasonable as they grew older he had seen that happen plenty of times. At least he could always hope. Since they would all live for a very long time and since their lands were neighboring to each other, Lukas realized that they would probably have to interact with each other a lot as time would pass by.

* * *

**AN:**I know Denmark is well known for his drinking talent, and two cups of mead probably don't seem like a lot but I did some internet research and I found out that a healthy 12 year old (approximately the Scandinavians age in this chapter) is 45 kilos and that Danish mead have or had a strength around 16%. And mix that in a calculator for blood alcohol levels and you will find out that two cups should be enough to cause slurring and stumbling in someone that size.

* * *

[1] Sadly I couldn't find any old versions of the name Denmark

[2] Svearige is a old word for Sweden

[3] Sverige is Swedish, Norwegian and Danish for Sweden For those who didn't know that

[4] Norge is Swedish, Norwegian and Danish for Norway


	5. Scadinauia

**Chapter 5 AN:** The probably much awaited Viking Age is getting closer, but I'm not there just quite yet that's the side effect of doing everything chronologically and not wanting to skip any time periods. But do know that next week things should get a lot more interesting as it will be the last time period before the Viking Age begins.

In this chapter I have started to use the English names on the countries as I am starting to change the point of view just a tiny bit so I'm not locked to only Norway's mind. The countries will refer to each other with the Norse names because I don't want them to use names that don't exist yet. The English word for Norway doesn't show up until the middle of the Viking Age as far as I know.

Oh… and for those who have reviewed, especially "Captain awesomesauce"… I feel it's about time I thank you people, I really do appreciate it^^

* * *

**Older Iron Age (500 B.C. – 400 A.D.)**

**Scadinauia**

Over a thousand years had passed since the boys first met back in Denmark. The lands of the three countries were so close to each other, the people of the lands had no trouble to travel over the boarders in order to do business with each other. So the three personifications of Denmark, Sweden and Norway had met each other on several occasions as they would often travel along with their people on larger trading journeys.

If Norway thought back to that very first meeting, he realized that not much had between them as persons over the time. Norway still found the Swede to be tolerable even if he always had a look on his face that would scare the children of his village away. Norway had grown used to it over time and didn't find it to be disturbing any more.

The Dane on the other hand was a completely different matter. Where the Swede was silent and calm the Dane would be loud and never shut up. And still after well over a thousand years of knowing him, he still hadn't grown out of his habit of getting into trouble. Neither had his social antenna become any better as he still didn't realize that Norway and Sweden both would often be annoyed out of their minds often after only a short time of exposure to the Dane.

Somehow the three of them managed to stay something like friends even with their differences in opinions and general personality. All three of them being personifications and having borders to each other could be one of the things giving them some form of connection to each other. Finally they knew someone that would not pass away in only a few years time.

At one particular meeting between the three of them Denmark had loudly claimed that they would live forever. Norway had given a short snort and told him that he was an idiot and would only live as long as he had lands and a people that considered them as his people. At that statement Denmark had started laughing and said: "And I will always have that, nothing is ever going to take away my lands and people. I am way too awesome to be brought down ever!"

At that claim from Denmark, Norway had responded with a blank facial expression and paid close attention as Sweden decided to kick Denmark's feet away from under him, and effectively s sending the crazy haired blond tumbling on the floor. "What was that for?" Denmark had screamed as he got back up on his feet. "I brought you down" Sweden had answered simply.

Denmark stayed furious for quite some time, but the lesson had been learned to some degree even if it was in the form of children's play. Anything can happen, and anybody can be brought down, for in life you never know what will happen next. But as the anger washed away Denmark insisted that he would never had fallen over had he been prepared.

* * *

Norway was standing on his shores, gazing at the blue waves crashing against land, just like he had done so many times before. But for now he wasn't just admiring the sapphire beauty of the seas. This time he was waiting. He had sensed ships entering his waters and by his calculations he should soon be able to spot sails in the distance.

It was Denmark and some of his people arriving from the south. Sweden and some of his people would hopefully arrive a few days later. It had been a long time since the three of them had last met, so they had agreed by sending messages with the trading routes that they would meet in Norway's land in the beginning of the spring season. So it was only natural that Denmark would arrive earlier, him having land further south than the other two would mean that spring came earlier for his people.

And Norway had been right, just in the horizon sails were appearing and slowly getting closer. The winds were good and it wouldn't take the Danes long to reach shore. So Norway decided to wait where he was and enjoy the last moments of silence he would have for a while. For he knew very well that there would be little quiet and peace as soon as Denmark made his appearance.

* * *

It didn't take long after the Danish longboat reached the shores before a loud voice could be heard: "Norge!" Norway flinched at that name. Still after all those years Denmark had still not given up on using the same nicknames he had given the other two. Mere seconds after the name was called a person could be seen jumping of the boat and running through water towards dry land.

A wide grin was spread across his face when he located the person he had been looking for. "Norge, long time no see" he said loudly before he captured Norway in a bone-crushing hug. The Norwegian was quick to fight for freedom but had little luck as Denmark was still represented with a body that was older and stronger than that of Norway.

"Let me go!" Norway demanded, and Denmark finally let go of the now fuming Norwegian. "Well you haven't changed at all Norge" the Dane said with a smile. "Well at least not in behavior that is. "But I think you might actually have gotten taller since we last met." Denmark held on to Norway's shoulders as he looked him over. "Hah… but I'm still taller than you!" And true it was, Norway had grown a bit but so had Denmark, and therefore Norway was still the shorter one of the two of them.

First after he was done hugging his friend the Dane seemed to notice that most of his clothing was dripping wet after he had rushed through the seawater to reach dry land as fast as possible. "So Norge, you don't have a spare set of clothing to lend me by any chance?" Norway sighed, Denmark hadn't had foot on his lands for more than five minutes and already he was being annoying.

"You would have never had this problem had you been patient enough to wait a few more seconds, at least till your ship was close enough to land for you to jump out of the boat and land dry foot on shore." The Norwegian said it all with no emotion in his voice, if the Dane acted without thinking it was his own fault. "And I really hope you brought with you some extra clothes for your trip and didn't intend to wear only that one change of clothes for your entire stay here."

The wheels in Denmark's head seemed to turn for a while before he caught up with everything Norway had said, and then the lights came on and he started grinning again. "You're right" he said "I must have been so happy to see you I totally forgot, I do actually have extra clothes with me." Norway made a mental note to himself wondering whether or not he should start storing a load of spare clothing in his home for whenever Denmark would visit, just in case.

The man that was the current chieftain of Norway's village had arrived to greet the Danes. The chieftains made their exchange of words and the Danes were welcome to the village to stay for the discussion of trading between their people, and for as long as they would like. And with those words the Danes began to unload their ship and started dragging their belongings to the Norwegian village.

Now as the two country personifications had grown to look like young instead of mere boys men and considering they had lived for as long as they had, they had been given much more freedom from their chieftains. They were all capable of living on their own, so Norway had gotten his own little longhouse to live in without having to live under a caregiver. Norway knew he would be summoned if the chieftain felt he had need for his counsel in some way. But usually when the chieftains discussed business the personifications would be left on their own.

Now that they had all grown older the personifications had started to discuss the same topics as their chieftains only among themselves instead of just sitting in on the meeting between the chieftains and their trusted men. Norway had asked his chieftain after a meeting how it had went and found out that the conversation between the chieftains had been very similar to the ones he, Denmark and Sweden had kept. The three of them had figured that was what it was like to be a personification of a country. Being able to interact among each other as their people united.

* * *

After Norway had gotten his own house in the village, his chieftain had decided for him that visiting personifications would have to stay with him as there was more than enough room for guests. So now he was reluctantly leading the Dane in direction of his home built in the outskirts of the village.

"You got yourself a new house there Norge" the Dane said as the house was in sight. "Well. There is a limit to how long the human constructions can last" Norway commented. "And the weather has been getting a little bit colder in the later years. We needed to build better houses to keep the cold at bay." And that was true, and in addition the people didn't move around so much anymore so it was a good thing to have housing that would last for a longer period of time.

"So when will Sverige be arriving?" Denmark asked casually as he threw the bag of clothing he had brought with him on the floor and slumped down on the first chair he found. Norway glared at the belongings Denmark had dumped in the middle of the room. "Sviþjòð will be arriving in a few days hopefully. But you know very well that you get spring earlier than us." Norway lifted his glare from the bag on the floor and to the Dane. "Why didn't you just wait a couple days before you traveled?"

Denmark shrugged his shoulder and grinned. "I did actually wait a few days after spring first came. But the gods must have wanted me to get here as soon as possible, because the winds were in our favor all the way here. And I don't mind. It only gives me more time to spend with you." How Denmark was unable to notice the glare on the Norwegians face was a mystery, but somehow he was able to pull it off.

* * *

It took a few days before the Swedes made their way over to the Norwegian village and in that time with the visitors from Denmark, the village's supplies of mead had greatly decreased. Norway blamed a large portion of the decrease on Denmark himself as he was no longer the boy that got drunk after two mugs of mead. Now a day he could down one mug after another and the most noticeable side effect was an extreme increase in the volume of his voice.

The three nations had planned on traveling further south to expand their trading routes more. The travel it itself had been an idea from Denmark, so that all three of them could get out and see more of the world. And for once, the two more silent countries had no reason to disagree with him. There was no reason for them to stay put in their own lands when there was a whole world out there to explore.

One of the reasons for why the three of them had agreed to meet up in Norway was waiting for them down in the shoreline. A great majestic longboat had just been finished and was only missing the finishing touches before it would be ready for the seas. "Looks good" was all Sweden had said when he first saw the ship. "Do we get to sail this thing?"Denmark's said excitedly "I want to go with the new ship" And once again Norway wondered if the Dane would ever grow up.

All three of them and their people had some skills when it came to ships and the ways of the sea. But there was no debate of who had most mastery when it came to the question of seamanship. The Norwegian ships were by far the sturdiest, and were built to handle handling meter high waves of the open sea.

* * *

The finishing touches on the ship were done in a matter of two days, and the three countries were ready to help the other men packing the ship for a journey south. The Danes, Swedes and the Norwegians had plenty of ships they could use for their travel, but the Norwegians had argued that their new ship would make a good impression of the possible trading partners they could meet and refused to go without the new pride of their fleet.

The northerners set sail as soon as all the preparations were done. Three ships were cruising smoothly over dark blue waters on the way south, packed with as much wares as they could bring with them for trade. Mainly it was furs and dried meat from hunting, but they also brought with them soapstone. Some smaller villages had had some dealings outside of the established trading routes between Norway, Sweden and Denmark and they had claimed that it was a popular product. [1]

Sweden was being his usual quiet self as he was sitting on the bow of the boat staring or glaring out at the water; it was always hard to tell with Sweden when it came to such matters. Denmark was busy causing trouble in one way or another. It wasn't his intention, but was quite often the end result anyways. Norway had seated himself close to the stern of the ship where he had one hand dangling over the rails so that it occasionally got hit by a splash of sea water.

He was using magic to sense the life going on in the waters below them. According to the myths of his people it was supposed to live a great sea worm in the ocean that could crush great ships to firewood in an instant, even if he could not sense anything larger than fish at the moment. Back in his own lands in the forests he had seen several creatures the humans thought of as myths and legends. The trolls of course, and the alfar, but also creatures like nøkken and draugen. He had still to meet a creature that kept to the open waters.

Norway was interrupted in his thoughts by an angry voice. "Lukas!" it was the voice of his chieftain, and he looked rather displeased. "That Danish boy, Matthias is supposed to be your guest, so can you please calm him down before he tears apart our ship or I throw him overboard?" Norway looked over to where his chieftain was glaring, and the source for his annoyance could be observed all tangled up in some of the ropes for the sail.

* * *

"So" Norway said as he approached the Dane "do I even want to know how you managed to get yourself stuck like this?" Denmark turned to him with as much elegance as a person stuck in rope could master, and that wasn't too much at all. "Hey, Nor…" Norway cut him off by putting a hand over the Danes mouth before he could finish the sentence. "You know you are not supposed to call me that when other people are present" Norway hissed before he removed his hand again. As few persons as possible was supposed to know that they were nations, and Denmark using nicknames wasn't the most helpful thing.

"Lukas then" Denmark said mischief glinting in his eyes, and the smirk of a true troublemaker to match it. "Are you going to help me get loose or what?" Norway made no move to help him at all. "I was considering just leaving you there actually" he said. "But we do need those lines if we are to sail properly, so I suppose I have to free you." Denmark immediately started grinning. "You are my savior, rescuing me from the horrible fate of being stuck forever."

"Perhaps we can just keel haul you instead" Norway mumbled to himself as he started untying the knots from the Dane to free him. "Don't think my chieftain or my people would be too happy about that plan of yours Lukas" Denmark made a pout. "Keel hauling their nation when our two countries are supposed to be on friendly terms." Norway just hated it when the Dane actually made a reasonable point. And it was not like he could ask his chieftain to declare war on another country on the grounds of them having an annoying personification, however tempting it was.

* * *

The rest of the journey went by without any further incidents, and they found themselves closing in on land that was unknown for the three countries. The three of them had gathered at the now of the ship, watching as they drew closer to land. After a while they were able to spot small houses located close to the sea, the villagers would surely notice them soon enough and prepare to meet them.

The men aboard the boat were eager to reach land and all of them leaned heavily on the oars, giving the ship a great increase in speed so they could reach land sooner. The three ships arriving had gained great attention from the people on land. They had gathered on shore ready to greet the strangers, the fascination was clear in their eyes as they gazed at the ships.

Norway was holding back a smile; he didn't want his pride to show for anybody. But the newest ship his people had made was really one to be admired. Sweden kept his normal expression as he was keeping a firm grasp on Denmark's cloak after Norway's instruction to keep him from jumping of the ship in pure excitement.

Soon enough the ships bottom grazed the sand of the beach and came to a halt. The Norsemen were quick to jump out of the ships to secure it, while the three chieftains took the role of greeting the inhabitants and ask to speak with their leader as was custom for trading business.

The three countries found themselves just standing on shore wondering what they were supposed to do. They were not given any specific tasks for the trip other than to follow their chieftains. But they weren't left wondering for long before one of the villagers approached them with determined steps towards them. He had long, light hair, blue eyes and an angry look on his face.

"Did we do something?" Denmark whispered to the two others as the blonde approached them. "Don't think so" Sweden answered. "You three" The man said when he reached them with a voice that sounded as angry as his face looked. "You come with me now." Denmark looked like he was about to protest, but was cut off by the man taking a hold of his cloak and dragging him along with him. Sweden and Norway simply followed seeing no danger in the situation.

They were lead to a longhouse where the man quickly shut the door behind them and proceeded to glare at them. "Who are you and what do you want?" He demanded. "If you had listened to the greeting your chieftains came with, you would have known that we came in hope of gaining some trading partners" Norway snapped. "That's not what I mean and you know it" the other growled in return. "You three are nations just like I am, now tell me who you are and why you are here."

"I am not telling my name to someone who treats me in such a fashion" Denmark said arrogantly. "Because we already told you our people came here for trade." The other nation did not look pleased with the behavior he was meeting. "I'm Germania" he snarled and continued his glaring. Norway was the one to step forward. "We come from the north" he said. "I'm Norðvegr. The loud one is Denmark and that's Sviþjòð" Norway indicated Sweden with a jerk of his head.

"So why are you so angry old man?" Denmark asked, and received an elbow in the side from Norway and an even angrier look from Germania. "I don't know you, and therefore I don't trust you" the man snarled. "Is there a reason for why you dragged us in here?" Sweden asked, "I mean other than to yell at us." "I was assessing you as a threat" was the answer they got. "Had you been one, I would have been forced to rid myself of you."

The whole situation became rather awkward as nobody said a word for a long while. The northerners weren't sure whether or not they had been accepted or threatened. Not even Denmark seemed able to find any words to break the silence and staring competition that had broken out.

* * *

That's when the door suddenly flew open and a new man entered. This one seeming very different from Germania, as he entered with a smile and sparkling eyes. He had short dark hair and eyes, and a red cloak was fluttering behind him as he waltzed into the room. "Germania, you should not treat guests like that" His voice almost came out like a song when he talked.

"Rome" Germania said silently still not taking his eyes of the northerners, blue gaze burning, "you don't know these people, you should not trust them so easily." "Lighten up Germania" The other answered cheerily, "they came here to trade, and there is no need for you to look after heads to cut off." The newly arrived nation turned his attention from the fuming Germania and to the confused northerners.

"I'm the Roman Empire and I welcome you to my lands. Germania here is a little bit protective; he doesn't really trust any other nations at all so just ignore his rather aggressive behavior. My people would be very much interested in trading, but I don't see the reason why you three had to meet in person, your leaders would surely be able to establish an agreement on their own." After the Roman had said that he started laughing for no reason. Germania made a sound that came very close to that of an angry bear

"Any opportunity to travel the world" Denmark said, after finally finding use of his tongue again. "So three nations decide to travel south together for trade?" Germania looked distrustful as he asked the question. "Of course" Denmark answered loudly "We have known each other for ages, we do plenty of stuff together."

Germania was more or less forced to accept the explanation as there seemed to be no apparent way to stop the Roman from accepting the northerners: The dark haired man was already in full swing embracing his new friends, completely ignoring the fact that neither Norway nor Sweden seemed too pleased about the gesture.

* * *

After the northerners had gotten a chance to introduce themselves to Roman Empire they all agreed that their respective leaders would be capable of making plans for trade without their presence. So instead, the representation of the Roman Empire suggested they prepare a meal to celebrate their newfound friendship. It took him only a very short time before he had gathered an army of servants bringing in a great number of plates with food, and carrying carafes filled with a red liquid the roman introduced as wine.

Not that alcohol would be the best way to handle the situation. Roman Empire drank heartily from the beverage, the others mostly nipped at the drink, the northerners not used to the bitter taste. "I like mead much better" Denmark whispered to his fellow Norsemen. "I know" Norway snapped quietly back. "You emptied our ships supply before we even got halfway here. Now shut up and try to act at least halfway decently."

"So you guys come from the north right? So what's it like up there? I have never been there myself you see." The Roman clearly had a great inability to only ask one question at the time or to keep his mouth shut for a longer period of time. Denmark stopped stuffing his face with food for a minute so he could answer. "Our lands are pretty much surrounded by the sea, the sea is everywhere! That's why were so good with ships. If you're a crappy sailor you will risk hitting a skerry[2] and ruin your ship. Especially sailing around Norge's place, there's a bunch of skerries all along his coast."

Norway sighed. Trust Denmark to give a description of their home countries and that's what you end up with. But Roman Empire seemed satisfied enough with the description he had gotten and Sweden gave a hum to show that he had nothing more to add, so that was the end to the question of how it was up in the north.

As the evening passed on, it turned out that the Roman might love his wine a little too much. The man had already without any alcohol in his system been a very open and talkative person. But as he kept on drinking, the topics he covered in his very one sided conversation changed from innocent to talk about food to detailed depictions of how he had conquered vast lands and deflowered many a maiden in his life.

When he was about to describe in greater detail a specific meeting with one particularly beautiful young girl, he had Denmark listening intently with partially open mouth and Germania who's face had gained a dangerous shade of red grumbled silently about how food, fighting and conquest of women was the only thing on the man's mind, before he rose up and started dragging away the clearly intoxicated Roman to great protests from said man.

The three Norsemen were left alone yet again. "That sure was some interesting people" Denmark commented as he reached for more food and stared at the door where the other two nations had disappeared. "Yeah" was the answer Sweden gave. "Well at least they don't think of us as enemies" Norway said before he too went for the food left behind.

* * *

The Norsemen saw nothing more of the two other nations until they were set to leave for their homes. The Roman people had been happy with goods they had been brought and as payment for the wares the northerners were given swords, jewelry and coins[3], which had mostly been loaded on to the ships.

The two southern nations walked towards the three northern personifications that were watching as the men were finishing loading the ships for the journey. Germania had the same stern look on his face as he had worn when they first met, and Roman Empire was smiling happily.

"We came to wish you a pleasant trip back to Scadinauia" the Roman said smiling. He was met with three confused expressions. Or rather one very confused look, one just looking angry and one not really having a look on his face. "What do you mean Scadinauia?" Norway asked. "It's your lands" the Roman exclaimed. "Surrounded by sea and by skerries, it must be named Scadinauia."

"They don't recognize the words you fool" Germania grumbled. "Well then let me explain it for them" the Roman interrupted. "Scadinauia comes from the two words skadin and aujo. Skadin means damaging rock or skerry, while aujo means island. And that's how you described your lands, an island surrounded by skerries."[4]

Norway was quick to step on Denmark's foot before the Dane had time to protest as their three countries couldn't really be described like that. "It is a fitting name" the Norwegian said smoothly. "I think I can speak for all of us when I thank you for your hospitality and a lovely stay in your lands and may the trade between our people be prosperous"

* * *

With those words a farewell was made between all of them, and the northerners could return back to their homes. The name of Scadinauia would stick with the three of them as their people had a close connection with each other from many years of trading together. Over time it changed slightly and their three countries became known as Scandinavia, and the people who lived there as Scandinavians.

* * *

**AN:** The whole Roman Empire and Germania thing… The name "Scandinavia" was first used by the Romans, but the words comes from the Germanic language (at least according to the "oh so mighty internet") so I figured I had to put the both of them in the story together to explain the name, and I read that Germania was a sort of body guard for Roman Empire so I hope that should work at least to some degree.

* * *

[1] Norwegians traded with hunting products and soapstone around the Iron Age. I study geology "so sorry about random geology fact" and soapstone is a soft rock with high resistance to heat and was used for ovens and cooking pots/pans.

[2] It's a rocky reef sticking out of the sea. The Norwegian word is "Skjær" so if you want to google what it looks like, the Norwegian word gets better hits, and those things really aren't too kind to boats.

[3] Roman coins and jewelry have been found in Norse graves proving trade between Scandinavians and Romans

[4] One of the theories of why the Romans never invaded Scandinavia is that they had little knowledge about the place, and I think Roman empire just proved how little he does know


	6. World across the waters

**Merovingian Age (500-793)**

**World across the waters**

Norway was walking through the forest of his lands, blue woolen cloak fluttering behind him for every hasty step he took. For some reason he could not stand to stand still for long at the time. He was feeling more restless than he had ever done in his life so far. He could feel the magic of his land rushing through his veins making him feel like he was about to explode.

He wanted to get out in the world, explore and expand his borders. Before he had always been content with what he had, but now it wasn't enough, he wanted more. He was roaming aimlessly around in the forest in an attempt to calm down a bit when he sensed the presence of another nation on his lands.

The presence didn't feel threatening, so he figured it was most likely either Sweden or Denmark coming by for a visit for some reason. They could have traveled with a group of traders, just for the opportunity to get around a bit instead of just staying in their own lands. Whoever it was that came visiting it would probably take them some time to reach the village that had gotten the name of Kaupang[1], so he didn't have to worry about getting back just yet.

Norway wondered if he could find some peace within himself before he had to get back to the village. He had never been one for showing much emotion, so he'd rather not have anybody see how uneasy he felt with himself at the moment. He didn't want anybody to think he was weak so he wanted to hide that he was feeling that way.

* * *

The sky had already begun to darken when Norway returned back to the village of Kaupang. A couple of hundred people gathered to live in one village, it was quite impressive and it had become an important central for trade for the Norwegians. The townspeople had mostly started to quiet down for the evening, but one could still hear sounds of metal against metal from the smithy and see smoke rising from the chimney, indicating that the forge was still going strong even in this late hour.

The blacksmiths everywhere had been very busy in the later years. Iron products were in high demands and they spend much time on making tools, jewelry, weapons and nails that would make ships build even stronger and capable of crossing wilder water than ever before.

Norway walked in to the town to a house belonging to one of the main traders in Kaupang by the name of Sveinn. He was the one man that would know if there were any inbound groups of traders expected to arrive in the near future. The man himself had answered the door when Norway had knocked and let him in.

"Lukas, I didn't expect a visit from you this late in the evening" Sveinn said as soon as they found themselves seated by a table close to the fireplace. "Is there something bothering you?" Norway shook his head. "No, not really, I just came to ask if we were expecting any ships from Danmark or Sviþjòð in by tomorrow."

Sveinn lifted an eyebrow "We are actually expecting a ship from Sviþjòð to arrive tomorrow, but how would you even know that? Last time I checked you didn't concern yourself too much with the trade going on in this town." Norway gave a shrug of his shoulder "I was just wondering if a friend of mine was coming along with that ship, that's all." "And you couldn't wait for tomorrow to find out?" Sveinn asked skeptically.

"I'm not dumb Lukas. There is something bothering you, and don't think you can fool me to think otherwise." Sveinn was not a dumb man at all. As a trader it was useful for him to have a talent for reading people. And in an instant Norway was put on the defensive. "It's nothing, I'm just feeling restless. I have been for a while now. I just can't seem to find peace with myself." Sveinn's look turned scrutinizing. "Have you talked to Àsmundr about this? He is a good chieftain and cares about all of his villagers."

Norway gave a short sarcastic laugh "I did actually talk to him. He gave me a sword and told me that everything was fine." Sveinn started laughing. "That does indeed sound like something Àsmundr would do. Well at least he gave you means to protect yourself if anything should happen" he said. "A sword doesn't really help against feeling restless though" Norway sighed.

"No, I guess not" Sveinn said. "But you never know when you might need a sword. Don't worry boy, it'll probably pass soon enough." Norway rose up and made for the door. "Thank you for talking to me Sveinn. I really appreciate it." Sveinn stood up as well to lead the other man to the door. "I hope your friend arrive tomorrow Lukas, maybe he can help you with whatever is bothering you."

Norway didn't say anything, he merely left and the traders house and started walking back to his own. He highly doubted that if the Swedish personification could help him at all, but he didn't see a reason to tell that to Sveinn. Sweden was not known for his social skills, still after all the time they had known each other.

* * *

For Norway the entire night was spent tossing and turning without any reel sleep, and when morning came he was feeling wrecked, and he still had no idea to what had caused him to feel so restless in the first place. From what he saw in Kaupang his people was doing well and there was many places along the shore where people had build villages. Nobody had to travel very far anymore before they could reach other settlements.

Norway was wondering if the fairies might know something. When he had been younger they had been the one to give him information about who he was, so they might know what was wrong with him now. But on the other side, they had told him they knew nothing more about being a nation than what they had told him before they sent him to the humans. Perhaps he could now only hope that Sweden might have some information of what caused a nation to be restless even though the people of the land were doing well.

Sveinn had said the ship from Sweden was supposed to arrive late in the day, so Norway still had some time to kill. He spent them on preparing his house for receiving guests, tidying up anything that was out of place. The three Scandinavians had decided that whenever they were visiting they could stay in the same house as the nation whose lands they were visiting, so now he was wondering why he had not received any messages concerning the arrival of Sweden.

Had it been Denmark it would have been understandable. That young man was unpredictable, spontaneous and had a tendency to show up whenever he thought it fit. And only half of the time did Norway's magic warn him when the Dane crossed over the border to his land. There were plenty of times when he was first aware of the visitor as the yell of "Norge!" rang throughout the town and echoed from the nearby valleys. Sweden would usually send word in advance, so Norway had always prepared for his visits. This time was different though.

* * *

When the Swedish ship drew close too land later in the day, Norway was waiting in the outskirts of town facing the sea. The villagers were busy preparing for the arrival and paid him no mind as they rushed by. Sveinn arrived just as the Swedish ship was secured and the traders started coming ashore.

From the distance Norway could recognize one of the figures stepping on to land. It was hard to mistake Sweden for anybody else. All three Scandinavian looked like young men that had seen approximately 18 winters, but Sweden was taller than most of his own people and made him easy to pick out in a company. He had become broader of chest since they last met, and the stern look was still kept firmly on his face.

Sweden noticed Norway waiting by the houses, and started walking towards him with determined steps. A sword hung by his waist and swung from side to side in sync with his steps. "You knew I was coming" the Swede grumbled when they stood face to face. Norway only nodded in confirmation, blank look upon his face. "How could you know?" Sweden asked without changing his expression at all. "I didn't send you any word beforehand." Norway gave a short shrug "I have my ways."

Sweden narrowed his brow even more than one would have thought possible. "You have always acted cold Norðvegr, but you are usually more hospitable than this." Now it was Norway's turn to put on a frown, apparently the Swede knew him too well. "I'm sorry. I haven't been sleeping well lately." Norway said, not really putting any emotion in the apology. Sweden lifted his eyebrow but didn't say anything.

The air around them was tense as they walked in silence to the house owned by Norway. Sweden let his gaze go over the living room taking in every detail in search for the reason for his friend behavior. What he did notice was a sheath containing a blade hanging on the wall by the fireplace.

He stared at the object long enough for Norway to notice what he was looking at. "How long have you owned that?" Sweden asked and nodded towards the sword. "My chieftain gave me that a few weeks ago. According to him a sword will solve most problems." Norway removed the sheath protecting the blade and turned it around in the dim lighting in the house as to admire the craftsmanship that had went in to making it.

"Are you going to tell me why you are acting like this or not Norðvegr?" Sweden took a seat by the table and never took his gaze away from the Norwegian that was still keeping the blade in hand. "And don't blame it on not sleeping; something caused you to not being able to sleep in the first place." Norway shot a defensive glare at the Swede. "Like you are acting like you normally do. Since when do you even speak long sentences?"

Sweden shrugged and broke the staring competition. "I actually came here because I haven't been sleeping too well myself and I wanted to check and see if you were alright." Norway lifted an eyebrow. "It may seem as if we both have the same problem then. I don't suppose you have an explanation as well?" "No" Sweden answered while shaking his head. "I just know that I feel uneasy in my own skin, and I can never stay still for longer periods of time."

"Is that a reason why you came here?" Norway asked. "Because it doesn't matter how much you travel around your own lands, you feel a need to travel further?" Now it was Sweden's turn to lift an eyebrow as the description fit perfectly for his situation. "So I guess it really is the same thing bothering us. I wonder if it is affecting Denmark as well."

"It might be possible" Norway said with annoyance toning his voice. "Denmark has always been quite restless to begin with, but last time he was here he first made fun of me for being shorter than him and then he almost tore down my house with a giant battleaxe, and that was without the help of alcohol"

Sweden sighed, "I can see how it would be difficult to tell the difference between a normal and a restless Denmark, but there is a big chance he is in the same situation as us. And also, who in their right mind would give him a battleaxe?" Norway snorted "a good question that is. But do you think we should contact him?"

Sweden's look became milder as he looked quizzically at the Norwegian. "You must be really desperate if you are suggesting contacting Denmark, the one person that seems to irritate you more than anything." "You have no idea" Norway said and then started pacing around the living room area.

The Norwegians face had not betrayed any of his emotions, but in the short time the conversation had lasted his voice had contained everything from annoyance to frustration and anger, and made it perfectly clear that something was wrong. Sweden had managed to keep his emotions fully contained, but having him speak that much was disturbing in itself as he usually kept his talking to a minimum.

* * *

The two of them agreed to send word for the Dane so if he wanted to, he could meet them in Kaupang. But even if Denmark would come, the other two would be left with some time to kill before the Swede would go with one of the ships back to his own lands. Walking around the forests of Norway did not help in calming their nerves at all, so in an attempt to exhaust themselves they had begun sparring with the swords their chieftains had given them.

Sounds of metal against metal were heard from an empty field just in the outskirts of the forest for hours at the time. The feeling of restlessness had become worse, and they would practice until they were so exhausted they could barely move when evening came. They found that exhaustion was the only way to get any sleep at all.

The first days after they started practicing, first learning their ways around with the swords a crowd would often gather to watch them. But the viewers never stayed for long as they had their own duties to take care of and would let the nations practice in peace. With the intense amount of practice their skills increased quickly.

Metal would sing as the two of them danced around in search of weaknesses in the opponent's defenses. Norway was much slighter built than the other, so where Sweden had strength, he had to use speed and cunning in order to gain the upper hand, for he saw no way of overpowering the other in physical strength.

* * *

They were both so deeply absorbed in their exercise they didn't notice the world around them, until one day a familiar and loud voice interrupted them as Norway had finally broken through Sweden's defense after them having slashed and parried of attacks for a very long while and now he held the blade to the opponent's throat in victory. "That's impressive Norge. Most people would automatically think that Sverige would win considering how he is built compared to you."

Norway and Sweden both spun around to observe Denmark leaning against a great battleaxe with his characteristic grin glued to his face "did you guys miss me?" he said laughingly. Norway lowered his sword from Sweden's throat and took a step towards the Dane and answered in a cold voice. "I wouldn't say we miss you. But there was a reason for contacting you."

Denmark faked a pout "Norge, you hurt my feelings with your cruel words. Why can't you say you miss me, just once?" I never get a chance to miss you" Norway said flatly. "You always seem to show up again before I barely even manage to realize that you have left in the first place." Sweden only remark was an indefinable grunt that nobody understood, probably for the best.

"So are you going to tell me why you asked me here then, or are you just going to keep staring at me?" The Dane said tilting his head to the side. "And can we please discuss it over a meal? I just came all the way from my lands, I'm starving." "No surprise there" Norway sighed. He sheathed the blade and began on the walk back to his house, the other two following right behind.

* * *

"So you are telling me that the two of you are for once in your lives feeling restless?" Denmark was staring at the two other nations with a smirk as he was eating heartily from the meal placed before him. "You don't have to seem so smug about it" Norway growled. Denmark laughed "I just find it extremely entertaining that the two of you are suddenly all jittery and restless because you are usually the ones to complain that I am the one incapable of sitting still for any longer period of time."

"But I still don't see why you wanted me to come here" Denmark said, and for once his expression was relatively serious. "We were mostly wondering if you are affected by the same thing as us" Sweden mumbled, he was back to being his silent, angry-looking self. "Let me think" Denmark said. "You said you feel restless and you have a need to travel more, but that's about it. Those aren't very clear symptoms of anything. Are you sure that nothing else is bothering you?" And for some reason his eyes were glinting as he said those words.

"It's not enough" Norway said, voice barely louder than a whisper. "What's that Norge?" Denmark's smirk widened and he looked mischievously at the Norwegian. "It's not enough, I want more!" Norway said louder. "More of what"" Denmark teased. "Everything" Norway answered without hesitating, dark blue eyes gleaming in the dim lighting. "We are too many people in one place, we need more land[2]."

Denmark looked triumphant at that response and Sweden for once changed his expression from scowling to mild surprise and Norway had taken on an expression of determination. "You knew what was wrong with us" Norway accused. "You knew it yourself as well; you just didn't want to admit it before now." Denmark said, still with a teasing tone in his voice.

"Do you know what we have to do to return to normal as well?" Sweden asked coldly. Norway never gave the Dane a chance to answer. "We are feeling what we are as a result of the desire of our people, so if we are feeling like this it means our people want more as well." "What are you thinking Norðvegr?" Sweden asked, still with the cold tone of voice.

"I am thinking that we suggest to our leaders that we explore other places further" Norway said. "They must have been thinking of it themselves to a certain degree; otherwise the thought would probably never have occurred to me. I have a lot of people living along the coast and some of them need more space. We need new land"

"But exploring and settling is not all you want is it?" Denmark said with a smirk playing on his lips, "Trading is just not enough anymore". Norway's dark blue eyes were glinting dangerously at the Danes comments. They all knew each other too well and that made it difficult to hide anything from the others.

"Power" Norway said slowly in the determined tone of voice nobody had heard from him before that day. "I want land, riches and power. And I suggest we go take it." Now Sweden finally decided to start talking as well. "And where do you suggest we go then?" He said, and the normal scowl on his face was switched out in favor of a more curious expression.

"So Norge, did you have any place in mind?" Denmark asked cheerfully. This left the Norwegian thinking a bit. He had gone sailing with his people on many occasions and they had often seen other lands. Not all people had been worth starting up proper trade with, so they had been left alone. That was until now, Norway had thought of the perfect place where they could go to claim riches and power.

"We go to the southwest" He said coldly, "and we will take whatever we want!" The other two kept their eyes on him and both of their expressions were now showing pure excitement. "I'll drink to that!" Denmark exclaimed and started drinking directly from the pitcher of mead placed on the table completely ignoring the mugs available.

* * *

When morning finally came Norway found that he had for some reason spent the night on the floor, his head was pounding and he wondered if an entire river would be enough to quench his thirst. He let his tongue run over his dry lips and could taste the sweet flavor of honey still lingering on them. The memories of pitcher after pitcher of light golden mead returned to his mind along with patches of memories from the night before.

After Denmark had emptied the very first pitcher of mead the day before to celebrate their decision of sailing southwest in Viking[3], Norway had gotten out the rest of his supplies of alcohol and the three of them had started downing the stuff. While highly intoxicated they had started a discussion of their attack on the land to the southwest, what weapons to bring and what they would take with them back home.

Norway had lost count of the number of mugs with mead that had entered his system, but from the way he was feeling now he could only guess that the number was pretty high. Before last night, he had never really had the taste for alcohol. He never cared for having his mind blurred and his senses dampened. But now, even considering the massive hangover he was suffering he felt pretty satisfied with yesterday's events.

The feeling he had previously had of restlessness was gone. Instead it was replaced with pure determination and desire for power. As soon as his people were ready they could set sails and an army of angry Norsemen would cross the seas to take what they needed or wanted from whoever was standing in their way. With superior ships the world was open to him and the two others, ready to be crushed underneath his boots.

But the day for conquering other places was not today. His head was killing him and he had no desire to even move from his place on the floor. But eventually he did lift his head enough to gain an overview of the room. It was no surprise to find Denmark sleeping on the table still clutching a half empty pitcher of mead. It was more surprising seeing that Sweden had ended up on the floor as well. He had not been one for drinking much either.

Any further planning and preparations would have to wait until all of them were working somewhat properly again, and judging from the look of things that could take some time. Norway only gathered enough willpower to roll over once on the floor so he was facing the roof. With the bright sunlight shining through the windows it was almost unbearable for him to keep his eyes open.

He had no idea of how long he was staring at the roof above him before a whine interrupted his line of thought indicating that Denmark had decided to join the world of the waking. "I think I'm dying!" he complained dramatically to no one in particular. "Shut up!" Norway snarled in return. "I do not need your talking right now."

A grunt from the floor made them aware of Sweden finally waking up. "Sverige" Denmark exclaimed "You're still alive." Sweden gave another grunt to the comment and marked the end of his part in the conversation. "What did I tell you Dane?" Norway growled. "Now shut up before I rip your head off.

Denmark chuckled for a while "Save your anger for the rest of the world when we take it with storm." Even in his hung over state, Denmark was very capable of pulling of a grin. "We can send you in the front and we will put terror in the hearts of anyone who opposes us."

* * *

For Norway the next few days passed in a blur. The other two Scandinavians had left for their respective homes to start preparations. The drunken plans they had made of crossing the seas were becoming true. Norway had not needed to present the idea to his own chieftain. The man himself had approached him and announced that they would cross the seas in search of land and riches.

Now he was sitting on the top of a high hill which gave him an overview of his entire village as the people was at work below him. In his lap he held the sword Àsmundr had given him weeks before. Perhaps the man had been correct after all. Maybe a sword could be the way of curing restlessness.

The men and older boys of his village had been armed and were being prepared for what would await them on the other side of the ocean. The men were had weapons varying from swords to spears and axes. Most of them had helmets and round shield to protect them and some of the richer members of the village were armored in mail.

It wouldn't take them long to be prepared to set sail. He would join his fleet with the Danish and Swedish one as soon as all the preparations were made. The day was getting closer and he could barely wait for it to come. There was so much more out there that could be his, and he felt like nothing would be able to stop him. He was stronger than ever before and so were his people. The world would soon know who Norðvegr was and what the Norsemen were capable of.

* * *

**AN:** So as I wrote last week and as you should have figured out from this chapter… Next week I'll release the Vikings! And our beloved Scandinavians will be free to terrorize the rest of Europe.

* * *

[1] Kaupang was one of the first cities in Norway, and it was known as a trading city from around year 700

[2] The Vikings were looking for new places to settle, as well as to plunder. And when they were too many in the settlement they would move on to a new place. At least according to my geology professor… so I guess I cannot be entirely sure of this information. After all what do geologists know about Viking settlements.

[3] Men that were crossing seas for raiding were said to "gå i viking," which sort of translates to "going in Viking" and means they were on a journey to raid places overseas. Oh the joy of translating sentences you only know in Norwegian and they sound all wrong in English.


	7. Lindisfarne 793

**AN:** And here it finally is… the beginning of the Viking Age. I Hope you enjoy it, because I certainly had fun writing it.

* * *

**Viking age (793 - 1066)**

**Lindisfarne 793**

The monastery was all quiet, except for the quiet hymns sung by the monks in praise to God. A small boy sat in front of the altar staring up at the statue in front of him, green eyes sparkling in admiration. His people had a great respect for their god, and so he was send to spend time at the monastery on order from his king. And he followed the order as a personification of the land.

Everything was like normal, slow, quiet and with monks going around their daily business cleaning, writing and worshipping. However the peace of the day was broken by a loud yell coming from the beach "There are a number of ships coming!" For some reason the boy sensed danger and got up in search of a window so he could get an overlook of what was happening outside. Something was very wrong, he could just feel it.

Outside of a window the boy could observe a small fleet[1] of ships closing in on land at a great speed. The signs painted on the boats were not anyone he could recognize from people he had traded with earlier and he found it alarming that shields were placed along the entire side of each boat. That and the speed the boats was closing in with was cause for worry, and it all became worse when he could hear loud shouts coming from the ships. After that he was quick to suspect that he would soon come to miss the normal everyday life of the monastery with its peace and quiet.

* * *

On the bow of the first ship stood the three Scandinavians, silently waiting for their ship to graze the bottom and give them the opportunity to rush on land. Sweden was keeping a firm hold on a broadsword and kept his icy blue stare straight ahead. Denmark looked barely capable of keeping still, constantly changing grip on the battleaxe with a wild grin on his face.

Norway was holding one hand on the sword at his hip ready to draw it when they were close enough to get ashore. His face was the usual blank one, but his eyes were sparkling with anticipation, the only thing about him revealing any emotion about the situation. They had been planning and waiting for this moment for quite a while now, and finally they were here, in the land to the southwest.

There was no more need for heavy strokes of oars from the men to reach land. The ship had high enough velocity to reach it on its own now and the men could finally pick up the weapons they had brought with them and claim the shield hanging on the rim. Swords and axes were beaten against wooden shields to make noise enough to bring terror to the very souls of the people on this Island.

It was as though time stood still as the ship glided over the last few meters of ocean before finally the ship caught ground and the horde of bloodthirsty men took that as a signal to jump ashore with weapons raised in expectance of battle. Cries of several Norsemen echoed over the lands as they rushed of the ships. There was no one to stop them from taking what they wanted.

* * *

People on land had sensed danger and now deep bells from the stone building not too far away from where the Norsemen had landed were ringing desperately. "Follow the bells" Norway said sharply. "There is no other place where they can have hidden treasure." Denmark was practically bouncing beside his friend and grinning. "Let's go then! Show the way"

And Norway did take the lead on the small patch leading up to the monastery. There was not a single person in sight. The one man they had seen had run from the shore screaming as he saw the ships approaching. But running would only delay the unavoidable. Cries of terror got louder as they closed in on the building proving that more people were present and trying to get away.

The first person they met was dressed in a dark dyed habit, and on the top of his head all hair had been removed to form a hairless circle. There was no time to waste on wondering. The man whimpered as Norway approached him with a blank expression and cold eyes. He started begging but his words were easily silenced when a sword made its way across his throat.

The Norwegian did not flinch or show any expression as the man before him fell to the ground, gurgling on the way down. Beside him the malevolent laughter of the Dane sounded and behind him the laughter of the other men in the raiding company. The sight did not bother them the slightest.

His chieftain stepped up beside him and turned to face the raiders. "You all know why we are here" he yelled to the men. "Those who oppose us shall fall, those who survive shall be slaves and all treasure will be ours!" The Vikings were encouraged by the speech of their leader and cheered before they all stormed off in different directions to murder and plunder everyone and everything in their path.

* * *

Now Denmark was the one to take the lead and Norway followed on his tail. Sweden was nowhere to be found, but neither of the two cared. They had more important business to take care of and the Swede could handle himself. In a courtyard on their way two men met a Danish battleaxe and one more a Norwegian blade.

"Both Thórr and Týr[2] themselves must be on our side" Denmark said looking to the skies. "Our opponents fall before us without a fight. There really is nothing to oppose us." Then he laughed, that loud annoying laughter Norway had become so accustomed to over time. That earned the Dane a whack over the back of the head. "You idiot, these men are not warriors" Norway snarled "anybody with half a brain can see that" "Doesn't make it any less fun" the Dane laughed. "They fall like flies around us."

And with those words he stepped over the lifeless bodies of the monks they had slaughtered only a minute earlier and kept on walking in the direction they were headed for in the first place. They had still to find out where the riches were hidden.

* * *

As soon as the bells of the monastery had started ringing, the monks had started to panic and one of them grabbed the green eyed boy from where he had been standing in the window sill. "Come here child" the monk cried hysterically. "They are here to kill us all! We need to hide" And with those words he was being dragged along trough the hallways in search of a someplace safe.

As they moved the hall he could hear terrified screams from the courtyard outside and the footsteps of a horde of men getting closer. Some of the screams were ended abruptly and were replaced by cheerful roars after a short singing of metal and the horrible sound that had to be the one from dying men.

"We can't let them find the boy" one of the monks said to the others as they ran. "But they are searching every room" one answered in a low hysterical voice. "There is nowhere to hide." The boy was not given a chance to say anything as he was being dragged along, not that he had anything to contribute with.

They entered one of the bedchambers and stopped dead in their tracks. From this room there was only one way in and out and that was through the front door. "The cupboards" one monk said. "Place the boy in one of them. Hopefully they will not think to look for anyone or anything in there."

And before the boy could protest he was shoved in to the dark space, and the monks started stuffing clothes and linens over him in cover. "Be silent boy. No matter what happens, you have to stay quiet." And with those words the monks shut the doors and left him in the darkness only capable of listening to what was happening outside his place of hiding.

* * *

Every single second went by incredibly slow for the boy, the only think he could hear through the doors and the massive amount of linens was the muffled sounds of prayer from the monks. They were praying for the lord above to have mercy on their immortal souls, asking forgiveness for any earthly sin they might have committed. They were not expecting to get out of this place alive, so they prayed for the life after death with their lord.

The prayers were interrupted by the door slamming open, heavy footsteps and wild laughter. The boy desperately tried to cover his ears and block out the sounds of what was surely to come next. But he wasn't completely successful; there was no way to avoid hearing as the prayers turned to begging, then screams of terror before the sounds ended abruptly.

In the silence that followed, the boy figured he could try and listen for the intruders to leave the room. But instead he could hear two people talking. "There is no gold in here and those guys are dead, let's go look someplace else." The voice of the man was loud and clear, and carried hint of amusement, as if he found the slaughter of defenseless men entertaining.

"Be quiet!" a lower voice commanded. "What?" the first voice whined. There was quiet for a bit before the quieter voice talked again. "There is someone else in here" he stated slowly as if he was analyzing his surroundings while he talked.

The boy held his breath and felt his heart rate increase rapidly. He had not made a single sound since the raiders had entered the room, he was sure of it. There was no way they could know he was hiding there. "What are you talking about Norge?" the loud voice asked. "I am pretty sure we killed everybody in this room. Are you imagining things?" There was the sound of a punch followed by a whimper.

"You didn't have to hit me!" the loud voice complained. "You deserved it!" the second one snarled. "I am not imagining things; there is another presence in this room. I can sense it." The boy's heart was beating so fast and his body shaking so badly he wondered if the entire cupboard shook along with him.

The men in the room wandered around presumably searching for him and to his terror the footsteps kept getting closer to his hiding place. There was no way to avoid what would happen next. The door was the only thing protecting him and now it was being opened and the boy found himself face to face with the two men that had left four monks slain mercilessly on the floor of the bedchambers.

He was met by two sets of blue eyes staring at him. One set was clear blue and full of life and belonged to a tall, broad man with wild light hair that held on to a giant axe. The other set of eyes were dark and cold and placed on an expressionless face. That scared the boy beyond belief even though the cold eyed man was shorter and slighter build than the other who was tall and muscular. For there was no knowing what thought were hidden behind the blank expression.

* * *

The boy did what any sane child would do under such circumstances. He let out a shriek so loud it could shatter eardrums. The largest of the men looked shocked and backed away while the shorter simply looked annoyed and clasped a hand above the boy's mouth to shut him up while he used the other arm to pin the boy to the wall of the cupboard.

The taller man stepped forwards again "How can one so small possibly make that much noise?" The shorter man gave the other an angry look "Shut it Dane. I think we need to ask this child some questions." "Like what?" the man referred to as Dane asked. "Like why his eyebrows are that huge or what? I only want to know where the gold is hidden."

The smaller man finally removed his hand from the boys face. "Tell me your name child" his voice was softened as if to not scare the boy before he got the information he wanted. The tall man had begun to drag a thumb slowly over the edge on the battleaxe's blade to test its sharpness while he was staring at the boy expectantly.

"I'm Arthur" the boy whimpered "Arthur Kirkland. Please don't kill me." That caused the smaller man to smirk slightly for a short moment, and the eyes glinted dangerously. "But that is not your real name is it? I can sense it." "Sense what?!" the taller interrupted. "If you stopped being so dense then perhaps you would be able to sense it yourself" the shorter snarled. "He's a personification, just like us."

"This wimp a nation, are you serious?" The taller said and poked the child. That earned him an elbow in the side from the shorter and more whimpering from the boy. "Yes I'm absolutely serious" the shorter snarled. Then he turned his attention from the taller man and back to the boy.

The cold eyed man brought up a small dagger from his belt and held it up in front of the boy to make sure the young nation followed his every move. "I want your name child, and I don't want the one you use among the humans. I want your real one, the name that also falls to the lands I'm in."

The knife held in front of his face was more than enough motivation to talk and his secret was already out. "You're in England" Normally he would not be afraid and would fight back and scream, but now he started crying and his voice became shrill "My name is England." The tall man started laughing, while the shorter kept his eyes locked on the boy, England. "I'm Norðvegr" he said coldly before he was interrupted by the other yelling "I'm Denmark!"

The one by the name of Norðvegr completely ignored the other and started turning the knife between slender fingers. "Tell me England… Where are the valuables hidden in this place? And I can assure you that if you lie I will know it and you will join your people on the floor." He pointed to the monks lying on the floor, blood pooling around them. "It's in the chapel" England said without hesitance, there was no need for lying and the raiders would find the riches eventually anyways. He figured he had a better chance of getting out of the situation if he kept the raiders relatively happy by telling them where all valuables were kept.

"What's a chapel?" Denmark asked wonderingly. England finally dared to put some bite in his voice; he could not appear to be weak in front of other nations. "Which god would that be?" Denmark asked "Thórr? Óðinn? Or maybe it is Loki?" The child gave a spiteful snort even with a dagger in front of his face and his back against the wall.

"There is only one God!" the boy said "everybody knows that." Denmark laughed again at that. "Only one god you say. Then how come I know of so many then?" "Because you're an ignorant barbarian" the boy spat. Norðvegr calmly moved the small blade to the boys exposed throat. "This you dare say to us when you are in such a vulnerable position. I can end your life in an instant if I so wish" England whimpered again, regretting his insolence.

"I can show you the way to the chapel" the boy whispered, hoping it could diminish some of the anger in the raiders. England was not entirely sure whether or not it had worked but after a short while the blade was removed from his throat and he let out a relieved breath. "Show the way then" Norðvegr said with an icy voice. "But if you try to run I will let Denmark take your head off."

England nodded slowly and he was let out of the cupboard. The two men looked at him expectantly until he started leading the way to the chapel where he had started his day in peace and quiet. The hallways were empty, but screaming could still be heard in the distance even though it had quieted down since the attack first began.

* * *

Denmark let out a low whistle as they entered the chapel. Around them mostly in form of decorations were great amount of riches. Golden crosses adorned with valuable gemstones, golden plates and goblets just standing there for the taking. Norway grabbed a hold on England's clothing and kneeled down to force eye contact with him yet again.

"Why is there nobody here to protect all this wealth?" He asked coldly with furrowed brows. "This is a house of God" the boy answered "People give riches to the church to save their souls; there is no need to protect them. Nobody would steal from the house of God." "Well, that was until now" Denmark interrupted with a smirk.

That seemed to have caught Norway's interest. "Do all the people of this land worship this one God of yours?" There was no way for England to get away from the Norwegians cold, analyzing gaze so he nodded in confirmation. "So there are many of these worshipping buildings in your lands?" England gave another nod and swallowed nervously.

Now Denmark had begun to be curious as well. "What are you thinking Norge?" The Norway rose up again and turned his attention to the Dane. "Just think. If the people of this land all accept this god they must have many more of these religious places." "And it was extremely easy to rob since they leave their riches unprotected" the Dane finished, eyes sparkling.

"No!" You can't do that" the child England screamed. The two Vikings turned to the boy. Denmark easily spun the axe around so the blade was held a few centimeters away from the child. "You think you can stop us?" he said arrogantly. "We are so much more powerful than you and there is no way you can stop us from coming back time and time again to take whatever we please."

"Big brother will stop you!" The boy blurted out, and then he bit his tongue in regret. "A big brother you say?" Norway said "and where might he be held up?" England tried backing away from the two of them so he could make a run for it, but the blade of the axe stopped him from getting anywhere. He was in big trouble now and there was no getting away.

* * *

The men didn't have to threaten him much before he was screaming "To the north, he's further to the north!" Scotland was going to kill him when he found out that England had told two nations of raiders about him, but that was a problem to worry about later. The Norsemen would surely have found him anyways, just not as soon as they would with this information. England was now quivering in a corner to afraid to move awaiting his fate as the two northerners was going through the treasure in the chapel.

"Hey Norge" The Dane said as he was going through a chest of jewelry he had found. "Why are you so interested in where that brother was held up?" "I was thinking of going there" Norway answered flatly. "What? Why?" Denmark blurted out clearly shocked. Norway put down what he had been inspecting and looked to the other. "We can't always go raiding together. You, I and Sviþjòð are three separate countries; there are some things we should do on our own."

"I don't see why" the Dane said and England in his corner was surprised by how sad the tall and broad man sounded and looked. The Norwegian however looked completely indifferent. "Three chieftains and their men will never be willing to share treasure if they are to go on more raids." "We can ditch Sverige" Denmark exclaimed. "He's not here and he is the least willing to go overseas[3]; it can just be the two of us."

"You're an idiot" Norway said shaking his head "chieftains are not fond of sharing riches at all, this is for the best." "I thought we were planning on terrorizing and robbing other places together" Denmark didn't take his eyes of the shorter male as he walked over to grab his shoulders. "You can't leave me alone."

"I didn't say we would never meet again or anything, I just told you that we can't always go on raids together" Norway said with slight annoyance in his voice. "But we can go on some raids together later right?" Denmark's voice almost turned desperate as he clutched the other's shoulders.

Norway sighed and nodded "Yes" and that was all he had time to say before he was crushed in a hug. "Now let go of me! We have treasure to steal" the Norwegian commanded coldly. Denmark let him go and smiled brightly again, all traces of sadness completely gone from his face.

"And Norge, you better make that a promise" the Dane said as he went back to looking through the jewelry box. Norway sighed "fine, I promise. This is not the last Viking raid we will do together" then he continued looking at the religious books he had found in a shelf "Are you happy now?"

"Very much so" Denmark said smiling to himself. Then he paused in looking through the jewelry as he had found an item of interest and held it up for closer inspection. "Find anything interesting Norge?" he asked casually and walked over to the other once more. Norway was engrossed in the books he had found.

"Actually I did" he answered. "These books have so much detail in the paintings, it's quite amazing." Denmark quickly grabbed the book and looked shortly at it before he threw it away to protest from the Norwegian. "What did you do that for?" Norway looked angrily at the Dane and none of them noticed the child creeping from the corner to grab the book and hide it under his clothing[4].

"There are so many valuable things in here we can take, why would you go for a book?" the Dane said loudly while he was still clutching the small item he had taken from the jewelry box. "As a personification, I myself have no need for any of the treasures in here" Norway murmured. "Our people will be here soon to claim the riches, and I figured I could take the book for myself, it's not like any of the men out there would appreciate it."

"I was thinking you should take something prettier" Denmark said with a smirk. He opened his palm to show the object he had been holding on to, revealing a golden cross. "What is that?" Norway asked scowling. "It's a hairclip well" Denmark said. That did not make the Norwegian lessen his angry look. "Firstly that is one of their religious symbols; secondly it is a woman's jewelry, what makes you think I want it?" Norway's murmur had risen to a slight snarling.

"I think it would look good on you?" Denmark said innocently and made a move to place it on the shorter male, but his hand was slapped away. "This is treasure stolen from our enemy, if you won't wear it, just keep it in memory." "If it is such a great symbol of this raid then you wear it" Norway said angrily. Denmark laughed "you are the one with the longer hair falling in your eyes blocking your view of the world; it would just look ridiculous placed in mine."

"So we went all the way to England for me to return with a hairclip with some foreign religious symbol?" Norway asked shaking his head. But he did take the golden cross to study it closer. Denmark grinned "As you reminded me we are personifications. Even if we will not always go raiding together or to the exact same places we will get the chance to steal something else on a later time."

* * *

England had been keeping quiet until that point, but the thought of raiders coming back on a later point made him let out a weak whine in terror. Both of the northerners snapped around like they had completely forgotten that they had left the boy quivering in the corner earlier, something they probably had.

Norway was quick to hide all the traces of emotion that had managed to make their way to his face during his discussion with the Dane returning it to the blank unreadable one, but England noticed that he tucked the clip away in his tunic now that the Danes attention was away from him. Denmark just grinned wider and his eyes sparkled in promise of further terror for England.

"What should we do with this one Norge?" Denmark asked as he closed in on the boy who backed further into the corner. "Kill him? Take his lands and bring him home to work for us?" "Do you really want to drag this whining child with you back to Denmark?" Norway was back to his flat, cold tone of voice again.

"Do you have a better idea then?" the Dane asked and turned wonderingly to his friend. Norway nodded slowly and the dangerous glimmer in his eyes was back. "I know exactly what to do with him." Denmark was about to ask what the plan was but the Norwegian interrupted him. "We have been in this place long enough, it is time we gather up the riches and slaves and return back home[5]."

* * *

Denmark was the one to call out to the rest of the raiders to them so they could bring everything of value to the ship. Norway had knelt down by England and forced the boy to look him in the eyes. "I want you do see what we are capable of doing" he whispered coldly sending a shiver down England's spine.

"You should know that no place is going to be safe from now on. We will come back as often as we please. To your lands, to your brothers or wherever it is we want to go. I will guess that some of your religious men managed to get away from our men and they will tell other people about us, but I do think it will make more of an impression on your people if their own personification is to tell them about the Viking roaming the seas."

"Norge" Denmark interrupted "The others are here," Norway turned to him and nodded slowly. "Let's go Dane" he said. "While the others are loading the ship I want to show little England here the handiwork of our men." England whimpered as the Norseman grabbed a hold of the neck of his clothing and dragged him along, Denmark simply smirked.

The first Vikings entered the chapel as they were about to leave them. The men were covered in the blood from the monks they had slaughtered, and now they were busy gathering everything of value and tearing down religious symbols and ripping out pages of the books in the shelves. England got to see them turning a once religious place in to a gigantic mess.

England had no idea where he was being taken, but on the way his capturer made sure he got a good look at the devastation left by the raiders. Everything was in disorder and they saw several bodies of monks. They had been defenseless men of God and they had been cut down like they were nothing.

The boy was dragged away to a point where they got a view over the monastery and then they stopped. "Watch boy!" The Norwegian commanded as he forced the boy to kneel facing the building. "What are you planning Norge?" Denmark was leaning on his battleaxe and stared at the Norwegian who answered "I want him to see it as we burn down the house of his God."

Only a few minutes after the words were said yellow flames could be seen licking the wooden structure of the monastery and black smoke was beginning to rise. Whenever England attempted to close his eyes he would receive a whack from the butt end of the axe as a reminder he had to keep his eyes on the building as the fire worked to reduce it to ashes.

"You can run now boy" Norway suddenly said with cold contempt in his voice. "Run to your leader and tell them of us" England was so surprised by the command he was barely capable of getting his feet to obey his order. He received a kick in the back of the knee and tumbled to the ground.

At the sound of loud laughter he scrambled back to his feet and ran as fast as he could. Not stopping at all, not even to make sure no one was following him. Not stopping to see as the fire devoured the rest of the monastery. He stumbled over rocks and branches on his path, but always got back up and kept on running. Clutching to his chest he kept the book he had hidden under his clothing in the chapel. He had managed to save one thing from Lindisfarne, one think the Vikings had not managed to taint with their heathenism.

* * *

In the evening silence settled over Lindisfarne again. The roars of the fires had died and only the embers lay smoldering on the ground telling the gruesome tale of the earlier onslaught. Soft rain had begun to fall and began washing away the partially dried blood from the fallen men.

The Norsemen had left as sudden as they had showed up and they were leaving in ships filled with newly gained treasure. Their journey had been a great success and gave them good reason to plan further raids on these lands. This was only the beginning of the adventure. The Vikings would spread out in the rest of the word showing how strong the north could be.

* * *

**AN:** I hope I didn't mess up the characters behavior too badly in this chapter.

And I feel like a horrible person, because I seriously had waaaay to much fun terrorizing little England. And that is also why I have prepared a short "bonus" chapter from his point of view set right after the attack on Lindisfarne.

I wasn't entirely sure about posting it, but it would be evil of me to mention a chapter and never post it, so you'll get it whether you want it or not I guess ;P It might me a bit crazy, but you'll see for yourself around Wednesday.

* * *

[1] It's a bit wrong of me to make the attack seem a bit big. The first Viking raids were pretty small in the number of ships, but hey… I'm the one telling the story now

[2] Tor/Thor god of thunder and battle and Tyr god of war

[3] Swedes tended to go East raiding; Danes went for France and England while Norwegians went to the north of England, Scotland, Ireland and islands in the north Atlantic.

[4] The Lindisfarne gospels were saved from the Viking raids by some escaping monks or in this case by England himself^^

[5] The Vikings would usually make a surprise attack, slaughter and rob before they left as sudden as they had appeared.


	8. Demons from the north

**AN:** Bonus chapter yay! If England is not making any sense at all I blame it mostly on shock;P

Reason: I ended up in shock a few weeks back when a snow scooter I was driving caught fire and I had to jump off still at speed. There was a hole burned through 6 out of 7 layers of clothing but I got off without injuries. The thing is that just after the accident I was according to my friends not making any sense at all and walking around with only one shoe… I think it was because the other was partially melted and I threw it away thinking it was still hot. So I ended up writing England in shock and saying some crazy things partially just to deal with what happened to me, but also for my own amusement.

* * *

**Demons from the north**

England had no idea of how long he had been running for, he had even lost track of where he was going. The only thing that mattered was to get as far away from Lindisfarne as possible. His hands, knees and elbows were all scraped and bruised after the number of times he had fallen to the ground in his escape.

He had no idea of how he had even gotten off the Island. For all he knew he could have flown over to the main land. He was also dragging with him a book for some reason, but he could not remember why anymore. At the moment very little was making any sense to him. He was haunted by the images of a burning building, bloodied bodies, wild laughter and cold eyes.

The sound of approaching horses was enough of a cause for him to panic. He dared not to look behind him to see who it was; the only though on his mind was to get away so he started running. But he was too exhausted to keep going and he collapsed in an unmovable heap on the ground gasping for air before he really got anywhere.

The horses kept getting closer and soon he could pick up conversation between whoever was arriving. "It's a boy" "Where did he come from?" "What was he running from?" There were so many questions. "We have to help him" one said, and after that sentence, England could hear the rustling of clothes and a soft thump of boots hitting the ground as one of the men must have dismounted his horse.

England clutched the book to his chest as he was turned over by the man. He gasped and then proceeded to pick up the child. "What is it?" another one asked. "This is the boy we see with the king at times, "we should bring him back. And the book he has with him, it is from the monastery of Lindisfarne. He might know what happened there."

"We should return to the king immediately!" One commanded and England was hoisted up on one of the horses so the men could take him with them. The young boy passed out from pure exhaustion before the company of horses even started moving again.

* * *

When he woke up he was surrounded by people, but he had to blink rapidly several times before the world returned to proper focus and he could see that one of the persons present was the king of Northumbria. They were all waiting and expecting answers. Some news of Lindisfarne had reached them, but they did not have the full story yet and England was the one person that could provide it for them.

"We found you carrying the Lindisfarne gospels" of the men said. "That means you was there, you know what happened." All of the people gathered were looking very nervous and desperate to know what had happened. "The monks told us that heathens attacked but nothing more. We need to know what really happened."

Heathens… the memories fully returned to England all too clear. "They came in ships from the north" he started. "They turned a place of God into a slaughterhouse. They cut down the monks without a second thought about it. They stole the treasures dedicated to God!" The gathering of people gasped. "And then they told me of their heathen gods before they burned the monastery down" England's said dramatically.

"What did these heathens look like?" one of the men asked "surely they must have looked like demons." "It was worse" a wild eyed England answered. "At first you would think they were normal men like the rest of us. But they laugh as they murder everyone in their path, and their eyes are dead. If you look them in the eyes you will see nothing at all. There is no trace of a soul in them, just cold emptiness."

The crowd assembled only stared at him wide of eyes but silent. England was frustrated that his recollections was not having the desired effect on the crowd. "And on their heads they wore helmets equipped with horns!" he Exclaimed abruptly and that caused the audience to react, praying and making the sign of a cross in the air before them. England took his chance now that he definitely had everybody's attention. "Horns like only the devil himself would approve of. They are here to test our faith in God"

"May the lord above protect us from these unholy men" a woman present said. "Unholy indeed" England cried. "There were two of them more horrible that the others. I saw them as they killed many of the monks and one of them was about to steal the gospels." "Then how did you manage to save the book child?" one person asked. "They were too distracted with each other to notice me hiding it" England answered.

England still had the entire audience spellbound by his words and he saw his chance to make the raiders seem as horrible as was absolutely possible. "What do you mean?" one of them asked curious to what the boy had meant with his earlier statement. "The one that wanted the book forgot about it when the other one wanted to give him a piece of woman's jewelry that he could wear. And he even accepted it." If the audience had not been shocked before, they definitely were now.

"You mean to say that you think one of them acted like a woman to the other?!" One of them asked in surprised and still confused. "I only saw one give the other jewelry, but what man would accept something only a woman would want? And who knows what they do once they are alone." That caused most of the people present to get horrified look on their faces as they started discussions among themselves.

* * *

The humans had finally stopped questioning him about what had happened on Lindisfarne. They had been terrified to know that such gruesome people had said they would come back. England did not regret any of the exaggerations and lies he had used to make the Norsemen seem even worse than they had actually been. He did not want his people to know that he, England had been terrified by normal men.

Now his people thought that Lindisfarne had been attacked by demons seeking to destroy anything in their path, to turn the world around them into ash and cloud the path of God. They were terrified of the heathen ways of these men, their impure desires.

But England still did not know what to do to stop any further attacks. They had promised to come back, and who knew how many men they would bring next time.

* * *

**AN:** The goal of this chapter was actually just meant to give a reason for the myth behind Vikings having horn on their helmets. I blame it on England, spreading crazy rumors in a state of shock.


	9. A king there shall be 872

**Chapter 9 AN: **It is very likely that the future chapters are going to be shorter than what they have been earlier, but I personally don't think that is a bad think and I hope at least some of you agree with me. The newer chapters are covering shorter spans of time and it would be meaningless to just drag out a chapter to get extra length on it.

And about next week, I hope I will be able to put up a chapter but I can't be certain. This weekend and all of next week will be spent outside doing fieldwork and that leaves little time to write. I'll try my best, but I rather skip one week than write something really crappy just to keep up a posting schedule.

And to Captain Awesomesauce: You brighten up my posting days^^ To cure you curiosity (hopefully) about the shoe… Both my shoes (and the rest of my singed clothes) were taken away for insurance purposes. The only thing I have left is a picture of the burnt shoe and it makes me think that maybe I wasn't too crazy having kicked it off to wander around in the snow without it.

* * *

**A king there shall be 872**

Almost a hundred years of Viking raid had passed since the very first attack on Lindisfarne. After Norway's suggestion the Scandinavians had split up to raid as separate people. Sweden and his people mostly kept to the east while Norway and Denmark usually crossed the sea to the east and went to England, Scotland and Ireland. They would visit other places as well but the personifications could not come along on every single raid their people went on.

On the raids Norway had been a part of himself, not all had been as easy as the first one where they barely met any resistance. Some of the people they met would try to fight of the Vikings… not that many of them had succeeded to well. And there were also the changing relationships with the other two nations to think about. Norway had ended up in a serious argument with Denmark when the Norwegians drove the Danes out of the town of Dublin and claimed it for themselves after the Danes had been there for two years.

Denmark had sought out Norway to demand an explanation to why the Norwegians had attacked him when their countries were supposed to be on friendly terms. Norway had only shrugged his shoulders and said that he was not in control of the actions of his people. Denmark had seemed hurt as he left but had left the issue alone afterwards. Norway had meant what he had said; he could not control his countrymen.

The chieftain the Norwegians had at that moment had not cared who they were fighting, as long as he gained more land and wealth. But it was only the one time the Norwegians had ended up on the opposite sides with the Danes and a few years later Denmark and Norway was yet again standing on the bow of a common ship, sailing west to attack some English village like nothing bad had ever happened between their people.

Denmark and Sweden had had some troubles between themselves as well, at least according to some of the rumors the Norwegian had heard. They had ended up in a fight or two, but Norway had no idea over what[1]. But the last hundred years had really been filled with a lot of fighting so there was no reason to get the details of every single one of them.

The three Scandinavians had really managed to spread fear around large portions of Europe. There were many stories of how they would slaughter, plunder and burn wherever they went. It was a bit exaggerated since they did a lot of trading and settling down in new places as well. But the bloodshed they had brought with them so many places was what stuck in the memories of people.

* * *

Previously the rule of Norway was split between different strong chieftains, ruling over different areas. But now things were starting to change. Denmark had gotten a king some years earlier and now Norway had a man named Harald Halvdansson claiming to be the rightful king over the land himself, after his father had died being the ruler of large portions of Norwegian land. The struggle for power had lasted for many years but the last two years the battles had become more frequent as the strongest men in the land fought to be the ruler of the land.

Norway had decided it was best for him to stay in his own land until the fighting had died down. Norwegians were fighting other Norwegians in the battle for power. The chieftains were not willing to have anyone rule over them and it made Norway feel sick whenever they engaged each other in battle. Harald Halvdansson had during the last two years gotten control over larger portions of lands and he was now gathering the forces necessary to beat down the last rebellions against his rule.

* * *

Norway was once again sitting on the hill with an overview of his village. People were too busy to come up here and that gave him a place of quiet to think and right now he really needed it. It was just typical of Denmark to arrive at this exact time. He had sensed his presence and had seen the ship land a few minutes ago. It wouldn't take the Dane too long to find him up on the hill.

He was very correct in that estimation, but at least Denmark was not used to climbing to many hills since his lands were extremely flat. And so he used a while to drag himself the entire way up, panting heavily when he finally reached the Norwegian sitting absolutely unmoving on a rock.

"Hello Denmark" Norway greeted flatly before the other had time to open his mouth. "You didn't even turn around! How can you possibly know it was me?" The Dane asked with a voice as loud as ever. Norway sighed "You should know that it is extremely hard to mistake you for Sweden and the other way around. I am perfectly capable of recognizing the ship you arrived with even from this distance."

"I guess you have a point there" Denmark said before he flopped down on the soft grass beside the rock where Norway was seated. "So what are you doing up here?" the Dane asked "I haven't seen you this quiet in years." Norway didn't answer and kept his eyes on the sea but that only made the Dane determined to get an answer. "I actually came just to ask you if you wanted to go raiding with me, but know I want to know why you are this quiet and you know that I will not leave before I have an answer."

Norway grumbled silently because he knew that was the truth and it was not like he was hiding a great secret. "There is going to be a battle very soon" he said still not moving from his place. That caused Denmark to narrow his eyebrows slightly. "In the last hundred years I have gone on several raids together and never have I seen you nervous about it at all. So what is wrong about this battle?"

A bitter smile grazed the Norwegians lips and he turned his face further away from the other in order to hide it. "This isn't like any other battle. If I join in this battle I will have to raise a sword against my own people. I don't know what to do." Denmark moved closer to the rock where Norway sat and placed one hand on the others knee and brought the other up to turn the others face towards him.

"If I am to understand what you are talking about, you need to give me some more information you know." Norway frowned and tried to look away again but the Dane kept his hand firmly in place and made it impossible for him to move his head to the side. Denmark's eyes usually sparkling with life were for once looking serious and had lost its playful hint. "Norge… Just tell me." His voice had almost turned into begging.

"There is a man claiming the title of king, but there are still some chieftains that do not recognize him as so. He lives just a few villages away and I have been asked to join the fight on his side. There is no problem if he is the winner because then he will be my king but if he loses then I will have raised sword against my people for nothing." Norway's eyes were cold and hard when he talked.

"Then why don't you just stay out of the fight and wait to see the result?" the Dane asked as that solution would seem obvious. Norway gave an annoyed snort "That would only be fine if he loses but what will he think of me if he wins and know that I stayed out of the fight?" Denmark was desperate to find a way to cheer up the other; he didn't like to be serious for too long at the time, it didn't suit him and he was way too restless to stay like that for long.

"Who is this guy claiming to be king then" Denmark asked. "Why do you care?" Norway asked and his voice had changed from the normal calm tone and to a slight snarling. "Because I care about you and I want to help you" Denmark said innocently with most of his usual chipper tone back, but Norway did not look amused.

"He goes by the name of Harald Halvdansson" the Norwegian answered "but people call him Harald Luva." That caused Denmark to bright up again "He's the guy with the hair right? I saw him down in the village just before I walked up here" Norway sighed "yes he is. The name makes that kind of obvious[2]." "So can you tell me why a guy walks around with hair and beard like that?" the Dane asked merrily.

Norway gave another sigh and Denmark returned to his original position on the ground, there was no longer any need to force the other to look at him. "Harald is in love with a woman called Gyda Eiriksdotter. She told him she don't want him unless he was the king of all of Norway and so he swore that he would not cut or comb his hair or beard until all of Norway is his."

Denmark's face lit up and he reached up to grab the Norwegians hands. "I think you should join the battle Norge" he said. "A man that dedicated to his cause is sure to win any battle." "But he is only that determined because of some woman" Norway said with furrowed brows. "If he does it for love, then it's even better than if he was doing it purely for power." Denmark said happily. "Love can push a man further than one would have thought possible. So go and join his army now, the sooner you get a king the sooner you can join me on a raid."

And with that Denmark stood up and forced the Norwegian to stand up. "Where is your sword Norge? You can't keep you king waiting, we don't want him to think you're a coward now do we?" Norway shot a murderous glare at the Dane, but as usual it was completely ignored by the overly cheery man. "You know that it will take weeks before I will be free to go raiding" Norway stated coldly. "It will take time to beat down the rebellion and have everybody accept Harald as the king."

"Then I will be back in a few weeks" Denmark said happily. "You take everything to serious, you need some cheering up." "Don't you have some country affairs to take care of back in your own lands?" Norway askedhiding his annoyance. "Nah… the only thing my king ever does is send me to whatever place is set on us raiding, and I strongly believe that my people will be fully capable of dealing with anything thrown at them, so I figured I could visit you and drag you along" The Dane said with the same happy tone of voice.

Norway sighed heavily but he let himself be led on the path down to the village. He could still not be sure about which way the battle would go, but he would join, and he would fight for his king, it was time for his country to be united. He just had to hope that he had picked the right side in the battle.

* * *

Standing on the same ship beside the partially self-proclaimed king he could not help but feel nervous. They were sailing along the coast, further north where the rebellious chieftains had gathered their forces in Hafrsfjord. At the stern of the boat stood Harald Luva himself, the mass of hair making him easy to separate from the rest of the crew. None of the others were able to compete with the hair he had been growing since the day about ten years ago when he made his wow not to cut it.

"Lukas" A voice called and Norway turned to see the king signal him over to the stern to join him. So he walked over and made a small bow in respect like it was normal to do. "What is it my lord?" he asked quietly when he stood up straight again. The king put a heavy arm around his shoulders "I just wanted to thank you for joining us for this upcoming battle." He said loud and clearly, voice resounding with authority.

"The people of your village told me that if I wanted to win the battle I should have you on my side. They said that despite you young looks you have been on more raids to the west than I could imagine, so I guess your experience will come in handy." "I will do my best" Norway said simply and Harald had no idea of what was really hidden behind the tiniest hint of a smile he could see on the other males face.

"Do you know who we are going to fight Lukas?" Harald asked. Norway nodded "From what I have understood their names are Eirik and Sulke." Harald shrugged, "You are right about the names. Eirik claims to be king of Hordaland and Sulke king of Rogaland[3]. They are the last chieftains opposing me, and as soon as they are defeated there are none left who oppose me."

"We are almost at Hafrsfjord; we better ready ourselves, because this is not going to be easy." The strongly bearded and hairy man patted Norway on the shoulder one more time before another man walked up to them seeking the king's attention.

Norway decided to leave the king and his jarl alone. He walked over to where he had put his sword and chainmail. In his first raids over the sea he hadn't bothered to put on any form of mail, it only served to slow him down and they never met too much resistance as their attacks usually came as a surprise on whoever they attacked. But now both parties knew of the upcoming battle and they were all Norsemen with great skills in combat, and he did not want to meet them unprepared.

* * *

The fleet of Eirik and Sulke was almost large enough to match the one of Harald Luva. The dragon heads carved on the bow of each ship made it seem like two armies of angry dragons were facing each other. Men on both sides had started crying out insults in an attempt to discourage the opponents, but nobody was going to back down.

Norway was the only one being quiet; he saw no need in throwing insults at his own people. Again he doubted his choice of joining the battle, but there was no backing down now. In the opponents fleet he could easily spot two ships greater than the others and identified them as the ships carrying the chieftains of Hordaland and Rogaland.

Harald was standing tall and proud at the stern of his ship. The helmet he bore had been embedded with a delicate pattern in gold pointing him out as the king and the cloak he bore had a thick fur lining to prove that he was of a higher class than the rest of the crew. He had started screaming out encouraging words to the men as they slowly glided over the waves and in to combat distance.

Norway was keeping a firm grip on the sword in one hand and shield in the other. The few seconds right before a battle broke out always seemed to pass much slower than what was normal. He could see the faces on the men on the ship sailing towards the one he was standing on. The men had looks of pure determination and even some bloodlust. But there was not a single face with a trace of fear any of them. They were all prepared to die for their cause, for their leader and there was no room to fear death. If they were to fall, then they would spend the night feasting in Valhalla with the gods[4].

There were a few more moments of calm before the first ships were scraping together and the voice of Harald Luva screamed "attack!" At that was all it took to start it all. Men on both sides starter boarding the opposing ships, expertly wielding their weapons and cutting down anyone they could reach. Battle cries and insults were exchanged with screams and the singing of metal.

Norway stood a few steps behind everybody else so he had more room to maneuver and stop anybody that got past the first line of defense. He had much experience in fighting and was able to best most humans without much difficulty. But he was not willing to be one of the persons to push further the assault. It was bad enough that he had to stop others from getting to the man he had chosen as his king.

* * *

Norway could feel every death from the battle as a punch to his stomach. He had also sensed the casualties of the battles Harald had lead earlier, but he found it to be very difficult to be a part of the battle tearing him apart inside. A death caused by the hands of a fellow Norwegian, and being a part of the slaughter was worse than just knowing of it.

A man running towards Norway with an axe lifted ready to strike, but Norway blocked the blow easily with the rounded shield and bashed it against his opponent. The man was knocked off balance and that was all the advantage Norway needed to end him with a simple strike of his sword. There was no excitement in this battle for him like it was in the attacks he fought across the waters, this was purely duty.

"Stop the berserker!" someone screamed, "they are trying to overwhelm us!" Norway could not locate the person yelling, but what he could see was the berserker he talked of, a giant of a man with a massive black beard wielding a long sword with both hands. One sweep and he had two men bleeding on the ground screaming in agony before death would take them.

Norway took it upon himself to stop the man before he could reach the king who was busy fighting his own battle. The berserker was just able to notice the shorter male and block the incoming strike before it could tear at his flesh. The berserker was much stronger and he easily forced the other to step take quick steps backwards to get away. Getting closer to the railing of the boat Norway quickly broke the stalemate between the two blades and took a quick step to the side.

The berserker had been so focused on forcing the other to back that he tumbled forward and was barely capable of blocking the next quick strike aimed at his side. But now Norway was the one with the upper hand and he was able to move much faster and carried a lighter weapon, so the berserker was not able to block many extra slashes before his defense broke down and he was left heaving for his breath looking down at the hilt of a blade sticking out of his chest.

He attempted to swing his sword one last time in an attempt to bring down the now unarmed man, but Norway took one calm step backwards and the berserker fell to his knees before him and at last fell over completely, a fall that he would never rise up from. Norway was left panting and without a weapon so he picked up the long sword I case any other opponents would come in his direction.

But there were no one else to come past the initial line of defense along the rim of the boat. The earlier stream of men to board the ship had let up and a quick look across the waters revealed that the other fleet was disintegrating. Many men had jumped overboard and taken the swim to land where they could escape inlands.

The leaders of the opposing army, Sulke and Eirik had fallen without ever making it to the flagship of Harald Luva. The berserker named Tore Hakland was the last great strength their army had, and when he fell the remainder of the army realized their battle was lost and the ones who had a chance escaped.

"Victory is ours!" Harald Luva was holding his blade up in the air while yelling at the top of his lungs and a roar of victory was quickly rising among the fleet. Harald's jarl stepped next up to the man "Victory to the true king of Norðvegr" he yelled "all hail the king!" And the roars grew even louder.

Norway was smiling for himself. He was surrounded by death, but still just hearing the words from the king and the jarl was a relief. For now the battle over power was over, there was only one true king over the lands. Norway was no longer a country ruled by separate strong willed and powerful men, but there was one man to take control over it all. From now on all the land was united under one true king.

* * *

When Harald had all of Norway under his rule, his wow was fulfilled and he could return to the woman he had originally made his wow to and she finally accepted his proposal. The plans for the wedding between Harald Luva Halvdansson and Gyda Eiriksdotter were quickly set in motion and the wedding was to be held at the end of the summer.

Norway had gotten an invitation from the king to meet with him a few days before the day of the wedding. So Norway rode the way from Kaupang where he still stayed and to the big farm owned by Harald so he could find out what the man wanted from him, it was not like they knew each other as friends. Norway had decided it might be wise of him to keep his secret to himself for the time being.

He was greeted to the farm by a young man taking control of the horse as soon as he dismounted to lead it to the stable and a young girl stepped up to him. "The king is expecting you" she said in a sweet and childish voice "Please just follow me and I'll take you to him. She quickly turned around and started leading the way to the main house and just inside of the door was a massive room with room for several people. Just back at the wall with overview over the entire room was a throne with the king seated on it.

When the king noticed Norway approaching, he quickly stood up and walked towards him welcoming with open arms. "Lukas" he said cheerily "it is so good to see you again, I am very pleased that you could take the time and come here." Norway gave a polite nod to Harald. "I would not ignore a request from my king" he said. "But I can't say I understand why you wanted me to come in the first place."

Harald smiled heartily "there is a great feast arranged for today. I have fulfilled my wow not to cut my hair until the day I was king, and my wedding is soon to come. So today I'm cutting my hair in celebration and I want the man who brought down the berserker to join in on the feast." And with that Harald gave Norway a slap on the back almost with enough strength to knock the personification over.

* * *

And a great feast it was indeed. Norway was three mugs into the mead and had a flashback to the day when he, Denmark and Sweden had first decided to go out in Viking. The feast had started with Harald yelling for a servant to fetch scissors and to cheers from the company of men gathered. A couple of minutes later the kings mass of hair and beard were reduced considerably and the man was almost not recognizable.

"You know what Harald" an extremely drunk man slurred as he supported his weight on the shoulder of his king later in the evening. "We cannot really call you Harald Luva anymore." Most of the men present agreed in the form of mutter and slurred cheers. "You are absolutely right" One of Harald's lesser drunk friends said. "The man before us is no longer Harald Luva, but instead the king Harald Hårfagre[5]!" And with agreeing cheers from the company gathered the name was set.

* * *

**AN:** A lot of the information is taken from Heimskringla the saga about the Norwegian kings written by the Icelander Snorre Sturlason in the 13th century or around that time. But I'm a bit careful about that information as he at times seems a lot fonder of Norwegians than of Danes and Swedes and I will make a point of that later on in the story.

* * *

[1] I found some information that seems to indicate that there have been a lot of battles between the Scandinavians, way too many for me to keep track of

[2] Harald Luva (rufsehovud) directly translated meaning something like "messy-head " but a better name would be "tanglehair"

[3] Hordaland and Rogaland are two Norwegian counties, and there seems to be many claims of being kings around this time

[4] Norse mythology: Those who fell in battle were said to end up in Valhalla where they would feast each night and fight, and if they died they would be brought back again to feast and fight the next day.

[5] Hårfagre means "fairhair" He didn't really get that name until after his time


	10. A tale of ice

**AN: **So I did it! I actually managed to finish this chapter on time! A week with plenty of time out doing field work will exhaust pretty much anybody, no matter how wonderful it might be.

And thank you people for the wonderful response to the last chapter! Wow… I don't know what to say … You guys are the reason I found the extra energy to write whenever I found some spare time this week, so I hope it is worth it ;P

* * *

**A tale of Ice**

Denmark was whining at the blank faced Norwegian in front of him. He had hoped they would go south west on one of their usual raiding routes but instead Norway had insisted on going just west instead and not for the sake of raiding. "Why can't we go raiding?" the Dane asked for what seemed like the billionth time and Norway had started to ignore him a long time ago but it never stopped the other from continuing his whining.

Denmark had done as he said he would and showed up in Norway a few weeks after he had first advised Norway to join the battle for his king, and now they were joining on a ship sailing to the west. "I told you Matthias I just want a break from all the fighting and I want to see the place where some of my people have settled down. You said I needed cheering up so then I should be the one deciding where we should go." Denmark pouted, but Norway was not going to be swayed over that easily. There was no reason for arguing on the destination.

They were sailing to the west, further north than where England was located. The Norwegians had sailed far and wide to explore the world and on their journeys they had discovered land untouched by others and decided to settle down and make a new place on their own. This was the first time Norway had taken the time to go and visit one of these places, an Island the Norwegians had settled a few years ago.

As usual Denmark never spent to long time in a depressive mood. When his whining and complaining was over, he returned to bouncing excitedly around the longboat, at times putting it in a risk of rolling over if a certain Norwegian wasn't there to put him in place. "I thought you didn't want to come along if there wasn't any fight" Norway said tiredly as he had shoved the other down on the floor of the boat yet another time. Denmark grinned "We are going someplace I've never been, that can be exiting to right?"

Norway sighed. There was times where he desperately just wanted to strangle the Dane, but he and Sweden were the two only persons he could even consider to be his friends so he let the Dane continue breathing for now. There weren't too many people he talked to regularly, so at times it was even nice to spend time with the loudmouth Dane so he wouldn't feel alone, not that he would ever admit that to the other because he would never hear the end of it.

* * *

The mountains were the first thing they could see in the horizon, they appeared black against the clear blue skies and slowly seemed to grow taller as the longboat drew closer. When they got close enough to see the shoreline, they were met sharp cliffs being crushed by waves over and over in a never ending cycle.

The settlement they were heading for would need the boat to keep sailing along the shoreline for a few more hours. The cliffs weren't too high, but they would not be kind to boats, so anybody arriving with ships were forced to look for places where the cliffs where switched out with flatter land and a boat could be dragged up on land for the night. A place such as that was where the first settlers had decided to make their home, close to the sea as was common back in their homeland.

Some of the Norwegians aboard the ships were relatives of the people who had settled on the Island before them, so when they finally could set foot ashore they were met with warm embraces and promise of supper. The securing of the boat was a business quickly done and the company could head up to the small cluster of houses.

* * *

The evening came and darkness spread over the land. In the open space between the houses a great fire was lit and over it meat was roasting merrily over the flames. The children of the village had been ushered to bed a long time ago and the others were sitting around the fire, enjoying the warmth and the soft crackling of the burning branches.

"So tell me a story of this land" one of the men said smiling, "there must surely be something of interest you can tell us about this place." The villagers whispered among themselves for a while before one of the women spoke up. "There is one tale" her voice was low and dramatic as she talked. "There is said to be a child wandering around in this land, all alone. There are times when food and clothing disappear from the village and none of us know where they can have gone, but there are some of us have seen this child."

One of the men snorted loudly in disbelief, but he was awarded with an elbow in the side from his neighbor and the woman continued. "From the way he looked there is no way this child can be like any of us. His hair is said to be white and eyes shining reddish like eyes of an animal, but before anyone can cast a second glance, he is gone."

One of the other men laughed and shook his head. "Children don't have red eyes woman, and neither do they run around living alone out in the forest. It is just a stupid tale meant to scare the children and hysterical women." More of the people present started laughing as well and it relieved some of the nervous tension that has build up during the telling of the tale.

Denmark gave Norway a nudge in the side to get his attention "Do you think it is true?" he asked quietly. "I definitely think there is more to the story than people might think" Norway whispered in return. Denmark's eyes lit up and seemed to glow. "Then we should go and check it out, don't you think?"

Norway nodded thoughtfully. "We can go out first think in the morning" he said. Denmark looked disappointed "Why not now?" he asked excitably. The Norwegian frowned slightly. "Because it is in the middle of the night" he said with annoyance toning his voice. Denmark looked at the other with a smug grin on his face. "If you're afraid of the dark Norge, I can protect you." He said lightly.

Norway completely ignored the other; nothing he said would change anything. Denmark would use everything he said against him and with that smile of his there was no one who bothered to doubt him. Norway also ignored the confused looks the humans sent in their direction. After knowing Denmark for hundreds of years he had gotten used to awkward looks from others. Denmark would usually say anything on his mind and quite often not consider any consequences. Receiving strange looks from people was not an unusual occurrence at all when one was in the company of the Dane.

Norway sighed but didn't say anything further. Denmark was luckily for him distracted by someone offering mead and seemed to forget everything he had just said. The strange glances people sent them also died soon enough as the villagers started telling stories of things they had seen after settling down on the island. Norway took the chance to sneak of and get back to the longhouse where all the guests had been assigned sleeping space.

* * *

The sun had barely peaked over the horizon and only a few birds had started on their morning songs when Norway awoke. He had fallen asleep as soon as he had gone to bed and he had been undisturbed when the rest of the people from his company had walked or stumbled on their way to the beds. Now they were spread out on the floor, some of them snoring loudly.

Norway took a quick glance around and located Denmark face down on his furs a few meters away. When he got up he made sure that of all the people he would stumble in to and wake up by accident it would not be the Dane. He felt a bit guilty as he snuck out of the longhouse leaving the other behind as he had expressed a real interest in checking out the myth, but he could apologize at a later point. He had his mind set on going out in the forest and investigate the tale of the child in the forest and if there was any truth to it he would not want the loudmouth with him to scare the child of.

This was one of the times where magic could come in handy. Norway's senses were what had awoken him up that early in the morning in the first place. He had felt some presence that was not human or animal, but something more. He moved away from the village with hasty steps until it was out of sight, which was quite a long walk as there was no great forest in the immediate vicinity.

Once he was far away from any distractions he closed his eyes and took in all the smells and sounds of the land around him. There was an old spell he had learned a long time back and he had never really thought that he would need it. But now he was quietly letting the words from the spell cross his lips, barely audible as the wind started to pick up around him.

As the magic was starting to work he could feel his mind becoming calm, the only thing in his focus was the presence he had sensed. Now as that was the only thing he was focusing on, it was becoming more noticeable and Norway could for real be certain that there was something else out there. The wind was whispering to him and he slowly turned around on the spot until his senses told him to stop.

He opened his eyes slowly and found that he was facing a narrow valley. He had seen it on his walk to the spot where he had first cast the spell, but know he was sure that he should start his search there. The wind turned and a gust of wind from the valley hit him in the face before it died down again and the grass that had been rustling madly quieted down leaving the world very silent.

* * *

As Norway walked between the mountains walls on each side of him he hoped that he would find something very soon, because even Denmark would sleep all day and once he found that Norway was gone he would very likely go out searching. The Norwegian didn't know how it was possible, but even without magic the Dane seemed to have an impressive talent for finding him no matter how far out in the wilderness he was.

The valley suddenly opened before him as he walked and revealed a massive open area with a view to the sea. Norway started to wonder how far he really could have managed to walk since he had spend so much time just walking around inlands and now he was at the coast again. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and said to himself that he must have gotten turned around at some point, he had been paying more attention to what the magic was telling him then what his other senses had, so it was a very real possibility.

On the cliff before him a horde of birds were screaming, all of them black and white with colorful beaks. Never before had Norway seen such a bird and he found himself staring intently at them and he almost didn't notice that the sensation of another presence was stronger than ever before. But eventually he did notice and he started looking around trying to locate the source.

What the Norwegian did notice was a small cluster of bushes shaking slightly even though the wind as stilled as a consequence of the magic cast by Norway. He figured that had to be the source for it all, at least all his senses were telling him so he didn't need the magic to aid him any longer. He broke the spell and all his senses returned to a normal level, the sounds and sights were dampened a bit.

The tale from the village spoke of a child and from all the years of living among humans Norway knew that children was usually distrustful of strangers. But there was nothing to do but to try and communicate with whoever was hiding in the bushes. "Hello?" Norway tried carefully. He felt awkward just speaking in to the open air because he received no response.

Norway knelt down on the soft ground so he came down to an eyelevel with the still shaking bush in front of him. He remembered that Saga had knelt down to him when she brought him back to the village all those years back. He knew that had made her seem less threatening and he hoped it would work on the creature hiding behind the leaves.

"I'm not going to hurt you" he said. He tried to keep his voice soft while talking, "I promise." He didn't know what he would do if he got no answer this time, but luckily he didn't have to wonder for long. The sounds of leaves rustling intensely was heard as a gap opened between the branches revealing a set of scared, but curious eyes and little else.

Norway was sitting absolutely still staring at those round eyes looking right back at him. The villagers had said the child had red eyes and he felt a small smile tug slightly at his lips because the eyes looking at him were indeed a rare color but not red at all. Instead they were a very distinguished shade of violet. The little hint of red that would be needed to make blue purple must have been enough to scare some village woman into believing that they had seen a red eyed child. If it had been dark then very little would have been needed to scare someone into making an exaggerated story.

"What's your name then?" Norway asked softly. The eyes looking at him closed and the leaves were flying around as the child hiding was shaking his head in refusal. "If I tell you my name first, will you be willing to tell me yours?" Norway asked, still keeping his voice calm and waiting patiently for the child to decide whether to trust him or not.

It took a few moments, but the child eventually opened and blinked at him. Then he nodded slowly. Norway tried to smile softly hoping it would make him look less threatening. "I'm Norðvegr" he said very slowly and clearly. "Noregur?" the child tried. "Norðvegr" Norway repeated even slower hoping the child would catch it the second time, but he had no such luck. "Noregur" the child repeated and from the lines forming at the child's eyes the Norwegian could see that he was actually smiling, so he decided it was good enough for now.

"So what is your name then child?" Norway asked "I told you mine, now it's your turn." "Ìsland" the child squeaked, "I'm Ìsland." Norway's curiosity increased when he heard the name. It was not one a normal person would carry and the fact that the child set of his magic senses was a hint in itself. He cast a quick glance around the landscape once more and up in the mountains far in the distance he could see glaciers resting on the mountainsides glistening in the early morning sun, the land he was in was indeed a land covered in ice.

"How did you come by that name?" Norway asked. The bushes rustled quietly yet again signaling that the child shook his head. "I don't know" the child said "it just seems right."Norway nodded, mostly to himself because he couldn't know if the child could actually see him from his hiding spot.

"Do you think you can come out of there now?" Norway asked, "I don't like talking to someone when I can't see them." "Only if you promise that you're not angry" the child said nervously. Norway was really confused now. "Why would I be mad at you?" he asked. "Because I took some things that weren't mine" the child whispered in return. Norway remembered that the villagers had said that things had been disappearing for them. "You mean the food and the clothes?" Norway asked.

"I was cold" the child said "and hungry." Norway still kept a soft smile on his lips just hoping the child saw it. He usually wouldn't bother to change his expression, but now he thought it was necessary to calm the child down. "There is nobody angry at you for that" he said. "The people in the village are just confused because they don't know where their things went. I'm even sure that if you had asked they would have given you what you needed in the first place."

Finally the child decided to come out of hiding. The violet eyes were fixed on Norway and his body language told that he was ready to run at a moment's notice. Norway thought to himself that this child was truly strange. His hair was so pale blonde it appeared as silvery white instead. The clothes he was wearing was way too big for him, but Norway figured that was the result of having snuck into the village at night to raid it for clothes.

Norway took the chance to slowly approach the child and reached a hand forward, but he jumped back in surprise as an intense cawing came from the bushes and an extremely angry looking bird hurtled out from the leaves. "No Mr. Puffin" the child exclaimed and picked the screaming bird up in his arms.

"Mr. Puffin?" Norway asked still shocked from the abrupt meeting with the bird. "The child smiled and nodded "He's my best friend" the child said "but he doesn't like strangers very much." "I can see that" Norway said as calmly as he could while inspecting the bird that was practically glaring back at him.

"So are you hungry Ìsland?" Norway asked trying to change the subject "It can't be easy to find food on your own out here." The violet eyes were quick to look at him hopefully before the child nodded his head vigorously. "I can take you back to the village and we can get you some food if you want to" Norway said. The boy looked a bit uncertain but the offer was too tempting for him to deny, "Okay" he said slowly and took a small uncertain step towards the other.

Norway took of his cloak and draped it around the child and the bird before he picked them both up in his arms. The only protest he got was the angry squawking from the bird but that was quickly silenced when the child started whispering quietly to it. Norway started on the way back. The sun was standing much higher on the sky and the rest of the village was sure to be up by this time and he was wondering what to tell everybody when he returned with the child of their stories.

"Do you know that you are the spirit of this land?" Norway asked. He had been told what he was by the fairies, but Denmark and Sweden had known what they were without the help from anyone as far as he knew, so now he was curious about the boy. "Yes" the child said with a voice muffled by the cloak "although I do not know exactly what that means." Norway sighed and slightly regretted his question. "It's hard to explain so I'll tell you more later, but for now I need to find you a name for you to use when we're in the village."

"But I already have a name" the child protested, "I'm Ìsland!" "I know" Norway said softly "But we can't tell normal humans what we really are, they don't understand it. Among them I go by the name of Lukas but as I told you my real name is Norðvegr." The child huffed clearly displeased about the answer.

"That is what it is like to be like us" Norway said calmly. "We live a long and secret life, watching as our people grow up around us." "Will Mr. Puffin do the same?" the child suddenly exclaimed changing the topic drastically and Norway realized he was in a situation he did not want to be in because how does one tell a child that his best friend would only life a fraction of the time he would.

Norway put the child down on the ground and gently put a hand on the child's cheek, staying silent considering how to choose his next words. "You are going to tell me something bad aren't you" the child said and large, salty tears were gathering in his violet eyes. Norway was about to panic, he had not expected that the child could read him that easily. But then he got an idea and he managed to keep his calm composure.

"Usually a bird will only live for a few years, but I might know a way to make him live as long as you do." Norway only hoped that he could fulfill that promise because the child's eyes were immediately sparkling at the thought and he squealed happily. "I assume from you reaction that you would like that" Norway said and the child nodded his head eagerly. "Then give me your hand and I'll see what I can do" Norway said and moved his hand from the child's cheek to hold the open palm in front of him.

The child was quick to grab it and look at the Norwegian expectantly. Norway tried to get a hold of the bird, but it took him four tries and two bites from the bird before he succeeded. He closed his eyes and muttered a spell to link the two beings so the bird would not pass from natural causes before his master did.

When the spell was said the child was looking at him with big, round eyes. "I think it worked" he whispered, clearly amazed by it all. "What did you do?" "Magic" Norway whispered, "But it's a secret and you can't tell anyone alright?" The child nodded and picked up the frustrated bird cradling it in his arms. Had Norway not been in the presence of the child he would have cursed as he wrapped his now bleeding hand in the edge of the cloak to stop the flow of blood. He had a feeling he would come to dislike the bird strongly.

"You said I needed a different name" the child said. "Yes I did" Norway said struggling to keep his voice calm and hide the thought involving roasted puffin for dinner as he assessed the damage done to his hand. "Is there any name you would like?" he asked. "Emil" the child answered and Norway smiled at him. "Then Emil it is." It was not like he could expect a better name from a child that had never lived among humans and would have no knowledge of names at all.

* * *

When they returned to the village it was already passed midday. Norway was yet again carrying the child, walking had exhausted the boy and he was now sleeping soundly tucked in the cloak. He was counting down to the moment when Denmark would discover him walking in between the houses.

"Lukas!" And there it was the loud voice that could only belong to one man. "Where were you? I was worried sick!" Denmark ran up to him and if Norway had not been fast enough to move aside he would most likely had been run over by the taller male. "Be quiet Dane" Norway snarled silently, "you will wake the child."

"What?" Denmark was confused and he definitely had the right to be. "You mean the child from the tale yesterday. You found it?" Norway nodded and moved aside some of the cloak to reveal the child's face to the other. "Yes I did and I'm sorry for going without you. But I found out that this child, Ìsland is the personification of this land." Norway locked gaze with the other and that kept Denmark for ranting about being left alone in the village while Norway was out exploring.

The child stirred at the sounds of the conversation and blinked his eyes rapidly trying to adjust to the strong light from the sun. He got one look at Denmark and was startled awake, desperately clutching Norway's tunic. Denmark grinned brightly at the child; all the disappointment of being left behind was gone. "Hey there little guy" he yelled happily.

The child whined and at that point the bird previously hiding in the cloak decided it was time to make an appearance. It flew up cawing madly and flapping around pecking at the man disturbing his master. Norway gave a short laugh at the situation playing out before him. Denmark was desperately trying to get away from the bird but having little success.

Even the child calmed down as the tall Dane ended up on the ground trying to use his cloak to protect himself from sharp talons and beak of the aggressive bird. Maybe the bird was worth keeping around after all Norway thought.

* * *

They stayed in the village for a few days. The child getting used to being around humans and accepting the name he had been given. The villagers had first been skeptical as Norway had brought him before them, the child had after all been the source for their ghost stories and he was the one that had stolen food and clothes in the cover of darkness but none of them found it in their hearts to hate a child, he had after all done it to survive.

The ship was preparing to sail back east so Norway and Denmark could return to their own lands again. Norway was carrying his belonging down to the beach to load it aboard the ship when the sound of quick soft footsteps of a running child followed him. "Wait! Noregur, wait!" Norway turned around and the child ran straight into him clutching his leg desperately. "I want to come with you!" the child cried before Norway had time to scold him for using his country name in close proximity of humans and now he couldn't bear to mention it at all.

"Are you sure Emil? He said curiously "You don't want to stay in your own lands?" The boy shook his head and buried his face in the edge of Norway's tunic. "I want to stay with you." Norway knelt down and hugged the child to his chest. "If you really want to come back with me you have to know that I can't stay with you all the time, I have things I need to do on my own."

The child looked at him pleadingly and nodded and a few hours later he was sitting at the bow of the ship on the way east smiling out at the waters surrounding him. The bird perched on the railing beside him letting out an occasional caw. Norway was observing the child and hoped that he could convince one of the wise women from Saga's bloodline to keep an eye on the child whenever he was unavailable to look after him himself. He could not find it in himself to leave the little boy behind, so now the child was coming back with him.

* * *

**AN: **So there is Iceland… I think it will take me some time to really develop his character. He won't have a very big role in the Viking age chapters; I can't bring a child into the most likely a bit violent mess that is the later chapters from this era. Hope that is understandable… I wish you all a lovely weekend^^


	11. The right to be king 954

**AN:** So all of May will be pretty busy for me with term projects and exams. Just thought you should know that I cannot promise that I will update regularly, but who knows.

Historically the power of the king in Norway wasn't too stable the first 150 years or so after Norway was first unified under Harald Hårfagre. And this is the result of that instability… Chaos!

* * *

**The right to be king 954**

Harald Hårfagre the king of Norway had had several children with various spouses, not only the woman that he had unified Norway to get. One of the children was Eirik Haraldsson who was given the nickname of Blodøks[1]. He was the one son born by Ragnhild Eiriksdotter the daughter of a Danish king. The last years of Haralds rule Eirik had been ruling with him and when his father died the rule was split between Harald's sons and Eirik was the one ruling over them all having the final word in debates.

But Eirik was too hungry for power and did not want to share it with his brothers. His nickname was given to him after he had slaughtered some of his brothers in order to be the sole ruler of their portion of land as well as his own[2]. His rule did not last for a long time before one of his younger half brothers returned to Norðvegr after having grown up in safety far away from his brother and challenged him for the rule. Eirik had not put on a fight and fled to England where he fought great battles, captured York and became the king over Northumbria.

But now those days were over. The west Saxons had come and a great battle had been fought at Stainmore. The once so very mighty man Eirik Blodøks had fallen and the Norse kingdom of York was ended once his body hit the ground.

* * *

"Norge!" Denmark was screaming at the top of his lungs, but there was no answer to be heard. He had heard about the battle and knew that the Norwegian personification had spent the last six years in the service of Eirik Blodøks and figured he had been a part of the battle as well. He didn't know why Norway had stayed in England when there was another king back in his own lands, but that was a question for a later time.

"Norge"" the Dane tried again "Lukas! Where are you?" The field where the battle had been held was quiet except from the cawing of crows and the dead bodies left behind would not give an answer. Norway's land and people were doing fine and that would mean the personification should be as well. But that did not stop Denmark from worrying. There was nothing right about this entire situation.

The Danes frustration was reaching new levels as he began inspecting the fallen warriors closer and screaming out both country and human name for Norway without receiving an answer. Denmark was angry at himself for not having been in the battle himself, but as Norway had said so many years ago they were separate countries and could not do everything together. But at the moment it didn't help Denmark's conscience at all, because now he didn't know what had happened to Norway at all.

Norway had to be out in this field somewhere and Denmark was determined not to give up until he found the other, no matter how long it might take. He hurled a broken helmet in some random direction and screamed in frustration. And that's when he finally heard something, and it was not the sound of the helmet bouncing off a rock far in the distance. This sound was human and it sounded like somebody in pain.

Denmark could feel his heart jump in his chest and he scrambled to his feet in search of the source for the sounds. His heart was racing when he finally located the source of the sounds from a bundle of blue cloak on the ground. "Norge?" Denmark asked nervously, his voice hoarse from all the screaming he had done. The answer he received was a low moan and with shaking hands he reached out to turn over the person in order to get a look at his face.

It was indeed Norway that he had found but his face was paler than normal and speckled with blood and mud after the battle. Denmark took one quick glance over the Norwegian and noticed a couple tears in his tunic where the material was now dyed brownish red with partially dried blood.

The gashes had mostly stopped bleeding, but still the Norwegian did not look too good. "What happened, Norge?" Denmark halfway whispered, for once in his life he found it almost impossible to talk. He made a move to make one of the tears larger so he could inspect the wounds closer but he was stopped by a soft touch to his arm. "Don't bother" Norway whispered while looking at the Dane through only partially opened eyes "Just leave me alone."

Denmark frowned, but tried to hide it from the other. He had not expected to hear anything like that from the other. Through the battles the Scandinavians had participated in they had often ended up with an assortment of cuts and bruises. Nothing as major as Norway was suffering now, but there was no need to sound like he was giving up. Norway had been injured in a battle off his own grounds, his people, king and lands were doing fine, so there was no reason why Norway would stay injured for a longer period of time.

"I'm not going to leave you Norge" Denmark tried to put a reassuring tone in his voice, but he wasn't sure if it would fool the other or not. "This is usually when you tell me I'm an idiot for not listening to you" Denmark continued, but Norway merely closed his eyes and slipped out of consciousness without answering.

Denmark figured he could not stay in England. After the battle the Saxons had put up it was not likely that any Norseman would be found welcome by anyone living in the immediate area. Norway was wounded and the Dane decided he could take the other with him back to Denmark. He needed to know what was going on.

He only hoped he wouldn't aggravate Norway's wound any further as he carefully picked him up in his arms to carry him back to where his ships and his people were. Norway had always been the smaller one of the three Scandinavians but Denmark was sure that he was not supposed to be as light as he was at the moment. And if he was not eating properly it was not only the battle taking a toll on him but something else had to be wrong as well.

* * *

For Denmark the next few days were nerve-wracking. Norway was mostly unconscious for the entire journey back to Denmark. Whenever he did open his eyes it was only for short periods of time and Denmark used the chance to force the other to drink honeyed milk so he at least got some nutrients in his system. But it was never easy, even in his weakened state Norway attempted to put up a fight trying to push away the goblet held to his lips and mumbling incoherent sentences.

He wasn't entirely sure of what to do with the situation. He had been in England for a while now, which was how he was so quick to come to the battlefield left behind in Stainmore. He could only hope that his king would know more if anything had after all happened in Norðvegr while he was gone. For at the moment Norway was not in any state to explain anything and there was no telling when he would wake up.

* * *

The first thing Denmark did when he got back to his lands was to carry the unconscious Norwegian to his home, where he placed the other nation on a bed. He figured he should go find somebody schooled in medicine to take a look at the other nation, but he doubted there was really anything a human could do for him, so he decided to go see the king first in order to get some news.

It took Denmark only a few minutes of walking to reach the longhouse belonging to the king and his family. That was one of the reasons he was happy he had chosen to live in the same village as his king. When Denmark opened the doors and entered, he realized he had rarely seen the place as busy as it was at the moment. The king Gorm and his son Harald were sitting at the back of the room trying to calm down a great mass of people gathered.

"Our father was the rightful king" one of the younger men present roared and Denmark immediately realized the ongoing discussion might be of some real importance.

"And now that he is dead the throne should fall to me" the young man continued. Denmark nudged one of the bystanders and asked "who is that? And what are they discussing?" "That is Harald Eiriksson" the man whispered without looking away from the discussion still going on. "His father Eirik Blodøks was king of Norway until his brother Håkon drove him away. He's been living here with his mother and his brothers since then, but now as his father is dead he claims that the throne should be his."

The words of the battle of Stainmore had apparently traveled faster than Denmark and his men since the sons of the fallen man had already started claiming their right. The king Gorm stood up and held out his arms to quiet down the gathered people. "Eirik was married to my daughter and that makes him a son of mine. He was indeed the rightful king over Norðvegr, and now that he has passed the throne should pass to his eldest son. His brother Håkon was wrong and we need to show him so!" The gathered men had started to roar in agreement with what was said. "We are going to bring down the false king Håkon!" Gorm roared and the cheers from the gathered people grew louder.

Denmark had a feeling he knew better why Norway was acting so strange. The discussion in the longhouse had given him more than enough room to put pieces of the puzzle together. If there was struggles for who was the rightful king of Norway again that was surely enough to make the personification uneasy. The situation in Norway had been calm for a while with Håkon in charge, but now the sons of his dead brother would soon come to challenge him with a Danish army to help them.

* * *

Denmark had gotten all the information he could hope for at the moment, there would be no use in talking to his king at the moment. A power struggle could explain some of the strange behavior from Norway, but not all of it. Now Denmark rushed back to his home hoping that he could wake up the Norwegian to learn more. In his haste to get back he stumbled on the doorstep to the bedchamber and was struggling to regain his balance when he realized the bed before him was empty.

Denmark felt panic setting in and was about to turn around in order to search when a slim but strong arm was put around his neck constricting his breathing and he felt something sharp lingering just by the side of his spine threatening to break his skin if he moved. "Where am I, and why?" a quiet and angry voice growled behind him.

The voice sounded so hoarse and cracked, Denmark used several seconds to realize he knew the owner of it very well. "Norge" he said calmly, even though what he wanted to do was whirl around and hug the man for finally having awoken after several days of having slipped in and out of consciousness. The hold around his neck tightened making it harder to draw normal breaths. "Answer me!" the voice demanded.

"You're in Denmark, in my house, you have been here before. You were injured so I brought you here" Denmark explained slowly trying to keep calm. "I don't remember being injured" the Norwegian snarled, "tell me what happened!" Denmark could feel the sharp object pressing harder into his skin and with the chokehold on his neck there wasn't any room for moving away from it.

"I will not tell you what happened unless you release me Norge" the Dane said still calmly, but his patience was wearing thin. The Norwegian huffed heavily. "I don't trust you" he said angrily "I can't trust anybody." But after those words were uttered the Norwegian broke out in a fit of coughing and the pressure of the blade pressed in to Denmark's back eased up as the Norwegian was forced to use his energy on regaining his breath.

Denmark was quick to use the chance to break the now weakened chokehold he had been kept in and quickly whirled around to snatch the blade and throw it away out of reach to be of any danger. Norway realized that he had lost his advantage and with a feral growl he threw himself at his other trying to use his bodyweight to send the other of balance.

But there was no use. He had been injured and even if the cuts had mostly closed, his muscled screamed at him in protest and not having eaten properly in days had him drained of energy. Denmark simply gathered the shorter male's wrist in his hands effectively stopping the attack. The Norwegian had no strength left to struggle and had to accept defeat with his hands locked in the grasp of the other male.

Denmark looked the Norwegian over. He was still as pale as the day Denmark found him out on the battlefield and still wearing the blue trousers from the fight partially specked with blood and dirt. The shirt he was wearing was one Denmark had put him in on the way back from England after he had tended to his wounds. It was way too big and hung loosely around the other's small frame and Denmark knew that under it the Norwegian was unhealthily skinny and one could easily count ribs, he had noticed it while bandaging up the gashing adorning the other. His hair was a mess and his eyes looked empty and haunted. To put it simply he looked horrible.

* * *

"What happened to you Norge?" Denmark asked quietly "I have never seen you like this before." Norway didn't answer, he just looked away and from what Denmark could tell he could clearly read shame on the others face. "I couldn't protect him" Norway whispered, his voice had become hoarser than it had been in the beginning. "I couldn't protect him and now his dead."

"Who is dead?" Denmark demanded. Asking questing until he got an answer was an art he had perfected over time. "Eirik Blodøks" Norway answered, still not looking at the Dane. "My king is dead and now I have nothing." Denmark was completely confused. He let go of the Norwegians hands, the other had used all his energy and had nothing left to attack with so his arms just fell limply to his sides. He looked like he barely had the energy to sit upright without falling over.

"But you have a king! Håkon Haraldsson" Denmark exclaimed loudly, he had been quiet for too long now. "No I don't" Norway answered and bitterness was evident in his tone. Denmark was becoming frustrated. One thing was that Norway was acting this way, with emotions raging all over the place. The other was that he still couldn't understand.

Then Norway broke out in yet another fit of violent coughing. He struggled for breath between each cough and tried to cover his mouth with the too large shirt he was wearing and when he removed it Denmark could see specks of blood now spread over the white fabric of the shirts sleeve.

"What is wrong?" Denmark asked partially in panic, "Your lands are doing well and you have a king, you are not supposed to be coughing blood!" "The link is broken" Norway wheezed as he gathered himself enough to talk. "The link is broken and I am no longer connected with them."

"What link?" Denmark asked in frustration. "The link to my people and the king" Norway answered angrily and glared at the Dane like he should immediately understand everything that was going on. But Denmark was no happy with the answers he got. Norway was only giving vague responses not really telling exactly what was wrong. "Why is it broken?" Denmark asked and grabbed a hold of the others shoulders, he was not intending on letting go until the other had explained everything "tell me".

"I was exiled!" Norway nearly screamed. It was like a dam of emotion had burst and no there was no keeping them back. "Håkon exiled me along with his brother when he took the throne. He didn't want anybody in his lands that had been loyal to Eirik, so he sent us away. I had to continue serving Eirik as my king, my true king doesn't want me and I was told never to step land on Håkons lands again or my life is forfeit. And now Eirik and his men are dead. I have nothing more to live for!"

* * *

Denmark was shocked, he quickly let go of the other as if the grip had been painful. Norway turned his head away again, not willing to look at the other. "He can't do that!" Denmark yelled. "He can't exile the personification of his land." Norway laughed bitterly, a sound that was so very wrong for so many reasons. "He can and he did. He didn't really know who I was anyways."

"If a king cannot recognize his own country personified he is no true king" Denmark said. "He is the son of Harald Hårfagre and the people like him. Eirik was never known to be kind and people found his brother to be a great replacement, they even named him Håkon den gode[3]" Norway said quietly but still angry. "Eirik killed his brothers to gain power, but he was the one Harald chose as his successor, so I didn't have any other choice but to accept him as my king. I would have gladly accepted Håkon, but he never gave me a chance."

"I'm sorry Norge" Denmark said, and he truly meant it, but he only got a glare in return. "Do not pity me!" Norway snarled "I don't need it and I certainly don't want it. Now that the link is broken I have no lands and no king and when all the men loyal to Eirik Blodøks is dead I will probably die along with them, because there will be nothing else to keep me alive."

"What about Eirik's sons?" Denmark asked, suddenly as a plan was forming within his mind. "What about them?" Norway snapped "they will die one day as well, just like all others." "You don't know about their plans yet" Denmark said and for the first time in days he could finally make himself smile, "you didn't listen to the meeting they just had with my king". The Norwegian was still glaring, so Denmark did not wait to hear an answer from him.

"Eiriks sons just went to my king claiming that they are the rightful heirs to the throne and not Håkon. And Gorm is supporting them, giving them an army to defeat their uncle and take over the throne." "What?" Norway said sharply. He finally turned his face to look at Denmark. "Yep" Denmark said and now his usual cheery voice was finally back. "It turns out that you might have another king after all, and I intend to volunteer to go with them in the fight."

He had not actually thought about going with the Eirikssons to Norðvegr at first, but now he was sure that was what he needed to do. His king was supportive of them and sent with them a fleet, there was no reason why he could not come along with them. "I need to talk to them" Norway said suddenly and tried to get up from the slumped position on the floor but his legs wouldn't carry him and the only thing keeping him from falling was the support Denmark offered.

"You'll talk with them soon enough" Denmark said softly as he stood up and hauled the Norwegian to his feet and put an arm around his waist to keep him standing. "It will take time for them to get everything ready to travel and at the moment they are probably celebrating. And knowing king Gorm correctly there is probably drinks enough to have everyone present seeing double for a week to come."

Norway didn't protest, he didn't have the strength for it and Denmark was right. "I need to repair the link" he mumbled silently all energy having left him. "I know" Denmark said, still keeping his voice soft as he steered the other towards the bed, "don't worry, we are going to fix it. I promise"

By now Norway was too exhausted to protest when the Dane lifted him up to place him on the bed and cover him in one of the thick furs. "Get some sleep Norge" Denmark said. "We'll talk to the Eirikssons when you're ready. Norway sighed quietly and it took only a few seconds and he was asleep. Denmark drew a chair up by the bed so he could sit there for a while just to make sure the other was alright.

* * *

It took two days before Norway woke up again. When Denmark entered the bedchambers and saw the other sitting up and looking relatively well, he couldn't do anything but embrace the other in e strong hug and exclaim loudly "Norge! You're awake!" "Not for long if you don't let go of me" the Norwegian said weakly "I can't breathe."

"I was just happy to see you awake again" Denmark said happily and released the other from the hug. Norway nodded slowly "I need to see the Eirikssons as soon as possible" he said. Denmark's smile haltered a bit "you have been asleep for two days and the first thing you want to do is discuss an invasion with people you don't know." "I need to know if they will accept me" Norway answered, "they are my only chance of reconnecting with the people of my land."

"Fine" Denmark said. "I'll take you to them, but only after you have eaten and changed clothes. I doubt you want to see your possible future king looking like you do now." Norway blinked his eyes tiredly and then looked down at his clothing. "You don't happen to have some spare clothing to lend me do you?" He muttered quietly. Denmark smiled brightly "I do. I already dug up some of my old clothes; they should probably fit you more or less."

Norway swore under his breath as he got out of the bed. His wounds had finally healed but he still felt weak from the lack of food. Denmark knew better than to try and support him as he slowly and with shaking legs made his way out of the bedchamber and to the main room of the longhouse where a fire was crackling merrily and warm stew was boiling in a pot above it.

* * *

After a meal, a wash and a change of clothing Norway was walking determinedly beside Denmark to where the Eirikssons were residing. Denmark was smiling, fighting an urge to laugh at the Norwegian dressed in one of his older bright red tunics. But at the same time he was keeping an eye on him to make sure he wouldn't suddenly collapse because a few times he had already needed to hold an arm on Denmark's shoulder in order to stay upright.

Denmark was the one to knock on the door and open it before getting an answer. There were three young men gathered around a table, clearly engrossed in a discussion. One of them rose up and walked towards them with a suspicious look on his face when he heard the door open. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked voice calm and full of authority.

Norway stepped forward with a calm face, not showing any signs of having been bedridden for days. "I am Lukas and I served your father, Kind Eirik Haraldsson of Norðvegr" he stated, "and now I wish to offer my services to his sons as they are to fight for the throne." The man broke out in a smile "Then you are very welcome here" he said. "I am Gamle Eiriksson, and these are my younger brothers Guttorm and Harald" he waived and arm to the two others still at the table.

"Then will you accept my help in your upcoming battles?" Norway asked barely capable of keeping the tone of desperation out of his voice. Gamle stretched an open hand towards him "We will accept all the help we can get" he said and now his voice was warm. Norway grabbed the hand and immediately he felt better than he had done in years.

The link to his people was rekindled but still not fully restored and nor would it be, unless the sons of Eirik succeeded and seized the throne. But it was a beginning and it was enough to give Norway hope. This was his only chance to get back to his own lands and be connected with it again. He had been away far too long living on strangers land that was not his own. There were rough times to come; Håkon would not give up power easily, but Norway was willing to fight with everything he had.

* * *

**AN:** Using history to mess with the characters and their behavior. Next chapter will have fighting… yay violence! Somebody should take my coffee and computer away before I go berserk…

* * *

[1] Blodøks is Norwegian meaning "bloodaxe"

[2] There are two stories behind the name of Bloodaxe. One was related to his Viking raids and the other was because he murdered some of his relatives. Bloodaxe was a name that could have been given to someone purely on the note that they were murderous but in this case the blood part can be because it was people of his own blood that was killed by his hand or axe.

[3] "Den gode" in norwegian for "the good" So the kings name was Håkon the good


	12. Battles for a throne 954 - 955

**AN: **I don't think one can hope for stability just yet… The Viking age is just messed up and the events in 954-961 just seriously have me hooked so I can't stop myself from writing. It was intentionally meant to be one chapter, but then it turned into two and now I decided to split the second chapter as well, because it was getting seriously long.

I am seriously using history to mess with/mess up these characters, but I find that to be extremely interesting to do so. I think Norway is a bit OOC but I blame that on being exiled and Denmark is acting weird because Norway is in trouble. I think they will turn a bit more into themselves in the next chapter when I conclude the fighting between Håkon the good and the sons of Eirik Bloodaxe.

* * *

**Battles for a throne 954 - 955**

The Eirikssons had wasted no time in gathering the forces necessary to sail north to Norðvegr. Their blood was boiling after the loss of their father and they were thirsty for revenge. The king Gorm of Denmark had supported the brothers and granted them ships, men and weapons before he wished them luck on their journey.

"Are you sure it is wise for you to join in the battle?" Denmark said uncertainly as he handed Norway a new forged sword he had just picked up from the smith. "It has only been a few months since I found you left for dead on the battlefield of Stainmore. You haven't been eating properly lately and I know how skinny you are." Denmark would have continued, but the sharp glare he received from Norway was enough to shut him up.

"Having the Erikssons defeating Håkon Haraldsson is the only way for me to return to my own lands and to even survive" Norway said coldly. "I cannot stay behind and hope that they will win the battle, I need to fight." He unsheathed the blade and inspected it closely. "But you will let me come with you at least" Denmark said almost begging. "Your king is giving support to the Eirikssons, it is your right to come along if you so chose" Norway answered.

Denmark as usual chose to ignore the biting tone of the Norwegians voice and was smiling at the thought of joining the battle. Norway would never admit it, but he was glad the Dane was joining. He had good skills in battle and there was no apparent way of bringing his spirits down. The fact that Denmark was so confident helped Norway in hoping that perhaps they could win the throne swiftly and get him back to Norðvegr soon.

* * *

There was a sharp knock at the door and Denmark went to open it and let the visitor in. Harald Eiriksson stepped in and greeted the two personifications politely; Denmark had after all a certain amount of respect among the villagers. "Matthias" he said bowing his head to the Dane, "Lukas" he said nodding to Norway.

"Why have you come here?" Denmark asked while shutting the door. Harald took a seat by the table and observed the pile of weapons and pieces of clothing and armor the two personifications had placed on it. "I actually just came to tell you that the ships leave in two days, but it seems that you are prepared already." "Absolutely" Denmark exclaimed cheerily.

Harald turned his attention to Norway still examining the blade in hand. "Lukas, you told us that you served our father Eirik but you never told us for how long you did so. I was just hoping that you could tell me more about him since he was never too close to us after he was exiled from our rightful land."

Norway sighed and put the blade down considering carefully what he could tell the young man. He had been serving Eirik Blodøks from the time he had been king of Norðvegr, but that had been over 20 years ago and there was no way he could lie to be double the age of his physical appearance. "I served under Eirik since I was old enough to go Viking" Norway said smoothly and there was no one who would distrust his words.

Lying to people was a necessity to keep his real identity a secret and with all the years of practice, Norway could run almost any lie across his lips like without anyone ever doubting it was the truth. "My father knew Eirik and believed in him as the true king, so when I came of age I decided to join him and his people in England."

Harald nodded thoughtfully at the story but appeared to take it as the truth. "You must have truly trusted the judgment of your father, when you chose to join an exiled king" Harald said. Norway kept his face neutral, he didn't want Harald to be able to read anything on him and put his story to further question. Harald smiled slightly "well I guess me and my brothers can only consider ourselves lucky to have you joining us."

Harald sighed and rose up and turned to the door. "I'm sorry I can't continue this conversation, but I have many more preparations before we can set of and sail north." He gave another curt nod to Denmark who grinned like an idiot at the gesture and then opened the door to step out into the warm midsummer air.

"Don't you ever get sick of it Norge?" Denmark asked as soon as the door was shut behind Harald. "Get sick of what?" Norway asked barely lifting an eyebrow. "The lying of course" Denmark answered loudly. "No" Norway stated coldly. "Why?" Denmark's asked and bored his eyes into Norway's cold ones. "Isn't there ever a time when you just want to run out in the middle of the square and scream out to everybody who you are so that everybody knows and are forced to give you the respect you deserve?"

Norway cocked his head to the side looking at Denmark who was clearly were into what he was talking about. "Idiotic Dane" Norway mumbled. "If nobody knows who I am, I can tell them anything" Norway said simply, "We can't have just anybody knowing who we are, for all we know someone wants to use it against us." Denmark shut up thinking for a while but didn't have time to think of anything to answer with before Norway tossed a tunic and a bag at him. "I don't even know why you brought something like that up, we have packing to do." And then Norway turned his attention to the pile of items lying on the table.

* * *

The sour stench of sweat and blood hung heavily on the air over Avaldsnes in Norðvegr as the singing of metal and cries of men resounded in the area. The two fleets meeting for battle had sailed to the beach so the fighting could be held on land. One moment Denmark had happily been cutting down one enemy after the other screaming and laughing equally, but then he realized he had lost sight of Norway in the mass of fighting men.

His laughter quickly stuck in his throat and he swallowed nervously while he glanced around for any other signs of the other personification. He could see a banner further in the mass off people and recognized it as the one belonging to the younger Eiriksson brother, Guttorm. He figured Norway might be standing side by side with one of the brothers as they were the ones hoping to be king.

The only problem for Denmark was the number of people he had to get past to reach the location of the banner. The first one was an older man bearded and angry looking. Denmark gave it no second thought as he first shoved the butt end of the battle axe in the man's stomach and when he doubled over in pain and at the loss of breath he buried the blade of the axe in his back, ending him quickly.

He roared determinedly and moved further towards where he had last seen the banner. The crowd seemed to open for him, no man wished to challenge him directly when he came storming with the battle axe dripping with blood and with a crazed look upon his face. Two more men had to fell before Denmark made it to a slight clearing in the battling mass.

Among the combatants Denmark could recognize Guttorm Eiriksson and Norway, and from what he could tell they were having trouble. Guttorm was stumbling and was sluggishly blocking the strikes aimed at him barely capable of countering. Norway was faring better, but the numbers were not on his side. He was standing close by Guttorm trying to hinder anybody from getting to the young man who was obviously injured in some way and made an easy target.

Denmark spent a short moment admiring how the Norwegian personification danced around his enemies wielding the blade with speed and pure skill. But even Norway wouldn't be able to keep all of them at bay considering how he was outnumbered, so Denmark lifted his battleaxe and charged at the closes man available wearing the colors belonging to the army of Håkon den gode, sending the man and his head tumbling in two different directions.

Norway noticed the newly arrived help from the Dane, but the only sight that he acknowledged his presence was a silent nod of approval before he went on to dismember one of the men that had been sending slashes aimed at him.

* * *

All three of the Eirikssons brothers had a man with them carrying a banner into battle in order to give courage to their fighting men. Denmark and Norway were too busy dealing with the waves of people attacking and they didn't notice the banner falling until they heard a distant yell for retreat and the sharp blow of a horn[1].

"Where is Guttorm?" Norway screamed through the noise of the battle. Denmark cast a glance around and cursed under his breath. "I can't see him" he yelled back. Denmark noticed how the Norwegian suddenly paled and he barely heard the faint mutter of "I can't lose him." He broke off from the group they had been fighting running towards where they had last known Guttorm had been with them.

"Lukas!" Denmark yelled as he saw Norway rush away in the search for the young man. He knew he couldn't let Norway go of on his own, his behavior had been erratic lately and there was no telling what that could lead to. He hated to break out of a direct fight like he did, but there were more important things than bloodshed at the moment.

After the yell of retreat had sounded the battle had turned more chaotic. Most of the men that had arrived with the Eirikssons had tried to get away from the fight and make their way back to the ships and to safety. But Denmark was still surprised that he didn't have to cut his way through people trying to keep up with Norway.

He was so focused making his way he didn't realize Norway had stopped before he ran straight into the other male. He was almost expecting a scolding for not paying attention as things like that could get one killed on the battlefield, but Norway was silently staring a few meters ahead where people had made an open circle to make room for something.

Denmark followed his gaze and what he saw made his stomach tie knots. Not because the sight was any more gruesome than he was used to, but because he knew that it was not a good thing for Norway. The young Eiriksson had fallen to his knees and was staring up at a man looming over him with a triumphant look on his face and a long blade held ready to deal a final strike. Guttorm was holding a bloody knife in his hands and turned his head down to stare at a gaping hole in his gut quickly spilling a river of red down his tunic, it was obvious that the knife in his hands had caused the river to run in the first place.

"No" Norway whispered quietly in shock "This can't be happening." Denmark reacted quickly before Norway would have any chance to gather himself enough and do something stupid. "There is nothing we can do for him now" he yelled, making sure he could be heard through the noise around them and grabbed onto Norway's arm. "We have to get back to the ship!"

"No!" Norway yelled and jerked at his arm trying to free it from the grasp of the Dane "I have to save him!" "You can't" Denmark yelled back and pulled Norway closer to himself and put the arm still holding the battleaxe around him constricting his movements and stopping the other from running off. Norway struggled against the hold desperately trying to get free, but was instead forced to watch as the man with the sword lifted the blade to let it fall on Guttorm Eiriksson sending the boy to his death.

Norway fought so much stronger against the hold and screamed in frustration, anger and possibly pain as the boy's body hit the ground before their eyes. "We have to go!" Norway said desperately trying to drag the struggling Norwegian with him. "The people around them were mostly belonging to the army of Håkon den gode and they would not let two of their enemies of their king live for long if they kept still for much longer.

"Norge" Denmark snapped and the nickname seemed to get just a bit of response from the other because the Norwegians struggle seemed to let up just a bit. "Guttorm is dead and there is no need for us to die as well and we will do so unless we move right now!" With those words Denmark started hauling the smaller man along with him in the direction he knew was leading to the ships, all he could do was hope that the Eirikssons and the rest of their army hadn't managed to sail away just yet and leave them stranded.

The army of Håkon knew their battle was won after the yell of retreat had been made by the Eirikssons and they didn't care to stop any of the men retreating to the ships as long as they made no move to attack. So the two personifications made their way back to the ships without having to engage in any further fighting just before the longboat was about to leave the shore.

They were met by Harald Eiriksson reaching out and arm to help them climb on board. "Guttorm?" he asked with both desperation and hope in his voice. "He fell" Denmark said quietly, panting slightly from exertion. The adrenaline from the battle was wearing down and he felt exhausted. Harald's face was immediately toned with sadness after hearing of the loss of his younger brother, but he quickly hid it as he moved to talk to his older brother Gamle at the other end of the boat to deal him the news as well.

A few of the ships from Håkons den godes fleet followed behind them as they turned to sail back towards Denmark to safety in defeat but stopped once they seemed sure that they would not try to turn around and attack again. Not that it was very likely considering the losses the Eirikssons and the Danes had taken in the battle.

Denmark moved to sit next to Norway who had been staring out in to the empty air from the moment they had gotten in the boat. The Norwegian had never been one to talk too much, at least not compared to Denmark, but now his silence was starting to worry the Dane that the other had not uttered one single word not even and insult aimed at him since they stepped into the boat.

"Lukas" Denmark said quietly, using the others human name as they were surrounded by people in the boat. "Are you alright?" he asked. He didn't get the cold glare from the other as he had expected to get from asking such a stupid question. Instead he got a tired and defeated look from the other before the Norwegian turned his gaze to the floorboards of the boat.

"Okay, so that was a dumb question" Denmark mumbled uncharacteristically quiet. "Yeah" Norway whispered hoarsely in return, not lifting his gaze. Denmark was staring out into the empty air as well until he felt something on his arm and turned to see that Norway was leaning against him. "I'm not feeling to good" he whispered so silently Denmark almost didn't catch it.

"Lukas?" Denmark said questioning. "I'm hot" Norway mumbled as an answer, voice muffled by the tunic he was partially burying his face in. Denmark put a hand to the others forehead to check the others temperature and sighed heavily. "You're burning up Lukas" he said nervously knowing it was not good to have a fever that high and out at sea it was little to do to make it better.

Denmark was frustrated. This day was supposed to turn out so much different and instead everything had turned to the worse. Since Norway was only linked to very few people his health was strongly dependant on those people alive and they had just lost a major battle and one of the men in line for the throne had died.

So now he was sick again and there was no telling whether or not he would ever get better or if the Eirikssons would give up on taking back Norðvegr and that way let the Norwegian personification die. Denmark wrapped his cloak around Norway who had fallen asleep still leaning to him and put a protective arm around him. There were more people injured on the boat so nobody cast them any weird glances for sitting that close, not that Denmark care much about the thoughts of humans at the moment.

* * *

A year went by and Norway spent all of the time barely ever getting out of the bed he had taken up in Denmark's house. He rarely talked when he was awake and he had become even thinner and paler than he had ever been before and Denmark found it almost impossible to make him eat enough to even keep him functioning and he was getting tired of it all and angry.

Denmark had kept an eye on the business of the Eirikssons brothers after they had gotten back to Demark after the defeat at Avaldsned where the battlefield had gotten the name of Blodeheia[2] after the slaughter that took place there. He noticed that Norway's health varied with how their lives were going.

When the brothers were licking their wounds after the battle and mourning the loss of Guttorm, Norway stayed unconscious in bed rarely waking up. But as Denmark heard rumors of the brothers planning a new attack on Håkon he noticed that Norway woke up more often and stayed awake for longer periods of time.

Denmark had thought then that maybe this time it would go better and they would defeat Håkon. Norway was not nearly strong enough to join in on the battle, but Denmark had helped him walk down to the shore to watch the ship set sail towards the north.

A couple of days later the Dane was yanked out of deep though by a horrified cry coming from Norway's room. He rushed to the room and found Norway sitting upright in his bed staring out in front of him and mumbling to quiet for anybody to hear what he was saying. Denmark sat down on the edge of the bed and took the Norwegians face in his hands and tried to get eye contact.

The dark, blue eyes of Norway were open, but he was not seeing anything in the room before him. It was like they were seeing something else, far, far away from where they found themselves at the moment. "Norge?" Denmark tried breaking through, but Norway was still not seeing him.

"They have lost" he mumbled "Gamle Eiriksson has fallen and they are retreating." "Norge, what are you talking about?" Denmark asked in frustration. "They fought at Rastarkalv" Norway mumbled in the same monotone he had used since he started talking. "Håkon was smarter than they anticipated and Gamle fell for their trap." "How can you know?" Denmark's voice turned shrill no matter how hard he fought it. "I just do" Norway mumbled and closed his eyes for so to fall into a deep slumber.

Denmark caught the Norwegian as he almost fell out to the side of the bed as he passed out. He was fighting hard to keep tears back and he succeeded. He was Denmark, he was a Viking, and there was no way he would let tears fall ever. "Why do you have to be so proud?" he whispered as he tucked the furs around Norway's sleeping form. "If that man back in your lands claiming to be king knew who you are he would never had exiled you in the first place."

He was talking mostly to himself; he knew Norway couldn't hear him anyways. "You are supposed to be back in your lands planning a raid on some English village and complain about me emptying your village's supply of mead when I'm visiting, threatening to kill me in some crazy fashion." When he finished his speech he sighed heavily and left the room.

When he had shut the door and walked into the main room he swiftly kicked a chair sending the item flying across the room and snarled angrily. The satisfying crash of the chair made him feel better and he sent and empty tankard at the wall to meet its fate for good measure and to get rid of some of the frustration that had accumulated after all the time spent on taking care of Norway.

* * *

More months passed and Norway still hadn't recovered, still spending most of the time in bed occasionally mumbling nonsense Denmark could never really catch. It wasn't only because Norway was incoherent in what he was saying, but also because Denmark had turned to the mead more often than not. He didn't have the conscience to leave Norway behind and go out raiding and the beverage didn't judge him for acting that way.

Denmark was drunkenly planning another murder of one of his chairs when there was a knock at the door disrupting his thoughts. He slurred some invitation and in the door came a tall and broad man easily recognized as the king's son. That was enough to sober Denmark up remarkably well in an instant.

"Please stay seated" the man said as he went to take up a place by the table himself. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" Denmark asked finally getting the slurring out of his speech. Harald reached for a mug of mead on the table and seemed to observe Denmark closely. "I know who you are" he stated smugly and took a deep swig of the mug. "I might even know who the man is that you keep here."

"And who am I?" Denmark asked skeptically, not really sure where the conversation was headed. "My father never was one to believe in stories" Harald started. "But I always enjoyed listening to them when I was younger, especially the ones about the personifications of a land." Harald took a short break to take in Denmark's reaction. "It would be really interesting to meet one of these people I thought to myself."

Denmark was absolutely speechless and he knew he shouldn't interrupt the man. Harald was giving him a triumphant look and a smirk was playing at his lips. "I have known you since I was a child because you have often done services for my father, the king. And now that I look at you I realize that you still look the same as you did when I was a child, I look older than you do and that shouldn't be possible. Unless if the stories are true." Harald said and his tone was revealing true fascination.

"So who am I then?" Denmark asked and he was now staring at the king's son with great interest. "You are the mark of the Danes" Harald said[3]. "Indeed I am" and for the first times in months Denmark was able to put some joy back in his voice. "You said you thought you knew who I was keeping here as well… So what is it you think you know?" Denmark was getting really curious to find out what the man had to answer to that.

"After having spoken to the sons of Eirik Blodøks I know that he is from Norðvegr and they call him Lukas. They also said he served their father, but he looks even younger than you do and that has me thinking that maybe he is the one representing Norðvegr. If I have heard right then he has been sick ever since Blodøks died and he have gotten worse after the defeats his sons had in the battles against Håkon"

Denmark wasn't sure what to think of what he just heard; his future king had just recognized two personifications and seemed to know a whole lot about them. Harald continued. "Considering that you are taking care of this Lukas, or whatever I should call him, has me thinking that you want him to get well again and I'm guessing that you need to get one of the sons of Eirik to the throne of Norðvegr to do so."

"And what do you want with me?" Denmark asked carefully. Harald smiled slyly. "My father is getting old and soon the throne will fall to me. When that time comes I might be willing to give Harald Eiriksson the support he needs to send another fleet to defeat Håkon Haraldsson." Denmark stayed quiet waiting for Harald to continue, because it was just all too clear that he had more to say.

"In order for me to spend my resources on getting one of them on the throne I want something in return for it. I want the northerners to accept me as the ruler over the Eiriksson that takes the throne." "You want to be king of Norðvegr" Denmark exclaimed loudly, mouth hanging open.

Harald was sitting still sipping at the mead. "Yes" he said calmly "In a fashion I will be. The Eiriksson will have the title and power of a king, but I will be able to ask him favors when and if I ever need it. I just want your help to make sure that the northerners accept that condition for my help."

Denmark was still shocked at the proposition. He had never expected to hear anything like that, but he could see the logic. All of Haralds guesses had been correct and if Denmark couldn't make Norway accept the offer the personification would surely die. Norway would just have to accept, there was no other way out. "I'll talk to Lukas, I am sure that he will be grateful for your help" Denmark said. Harald nodded and walked to the door. "I'm looking forward to the day when we can sail to the north together and defeat this false king."

Denmark smiled bitterly to himself. Norway would live, but Denmark was sure he would be furious once he heard the terms for the deal to get the Eirikssons into power. But Denmark was to desperate to let an opportunity like this escape so he decided he could just choose not to tell Norway about the deal just yet and wait until the other was back on his feet again.

* * *

**AN:** So that was the battle of Avaldsnes in 954 where Guttorm Eiriksson fell and the battle of Rastarkalv in 955 where Gamle Eiriksson fell. They are really persistent those sons of Eirik Bloodaxe, considering how they keep attacking Håkon the good when they keep losing battles and men in the process.

* * *

[1] The other Eirikssons brothers lost hope when they realized the banner of their brother had fallen and called for a retreat, giving up on winning the battle

[2] Norwegian meaning something like "The bloody heath" if I'm not mistaken

[3] Harald Bluetooth is considered to be the first REAL king of Denmark, so I think it's fair to make him capable of recognizing Denmark for what he is


	13. The fall of one king and rise of another

**AN:** … So no chapter last week… Well I did warn you that might happen, but now there is only one exam left and all term projects/papers have been defeated. So here is a new chapter and I have a short one for Wednesday as well^^

* * *

**The fall of one king and rise of another 961**

The king's son had left and Denmark was left alone, pondering whether or not he had made the right decision. Norway had always liked to be left alone, taking care of his own business. Denmark knew he wasn't always good at listening and respecting other people's wishes, what he had done now was a perfectly good example of such a situation. He had accepted Harald Blåtanns[1] proposal on Norway's behalf.

There was still mead left on the table since Harald had only taken one glass and Denmark reached for the pitcher emptying it quickly. That was enough to bring back the buzzed state he had been in before Harald had knocked on his door interrupting and it made him relax considerably. He felt more confident and it was easier to believe that he had made the right decision; it was after all the only way to save Norway.

* * *

A few weeks after the visit from Harald, Denmark was sitting by the table trying to force himself to eat some breakfast in a hung-over state that had become quite normal for him. That's when he heard a quiet whisper coming from the direction of Norway's bedroom. "You know that you will feel a lot better if you stop trying to empty your village's supply of alcohol each night."

Denmark dropped the food item he had previously been granting an evil glare and looked up to see Norway leaning to the doorframe. The shirt he was wearing hung loosely around bony shoulders; he was pale, and his eyes dull. But still he had made it all the way to the door without collapsing, and considering he hadn't been able to move around for ages it was quite an improvement.

"Norge?" Denmark said that with a question; he was not entirely sure that he could believe his own eyes and was still staring with his mouth wide open. Norway let go of the doorframe and took one shaky steps forwards. As soon as Denmark realized that his eyes weren't betraying him, he was quick to run across the room and offer Norway and arm to help support him as he slowly stumbled towards an empty chair where he slumped down breathing heavily from the exertion it had been to walk.

"How are you feeling" Denmark asked nervously as he sank down on a chair next to the Norwegian that attempted to send him an angry glare that was dampened by the frail state he was in. "Weak" he finally whispered, his voice was hoarse and cracked from not having been used in a long time. "Weak and hungry."

"Well at least I can help you with the hungry part" Denmark said brightly, and he was not able to keep back a smile that made its way to his lips. Norway nodded faintly and patiently waited as Denmark prepared a simple meal of porridge and a plate of fruit and berries. "I can probably make something else if you don't want it" Denmark said staring at the meal and nervously tracing a hand through his hair making it look wilder than before.

"Its fine" Norway mumbles and picks up a spoon, "I don't think I would be able to eat anything else at the moment." Denmark sits back down in the chair and simply observes as Norway slowly works his way through the meal. "Feeling better?" he asks, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Norway looks up and his eyes narrows as he looks at the Dane nervously fidgeting with a lose thread on his tunic. "Yes I am, though I don't really understand why, considering that the last battle against Håkon was lost and cost the life of Gamle the first one in line for the throne after Eirik Blodøks. Denmark's nervous behavior makes it obvious that he is hiding something, so Norway bores his cold eyes into Denmark's to prove that would find out the truth no matter what.

"From the way that you are acting I can only guess that you know something I don't" Norway said coldly, not even blinking as he kept his eyes locked with Denmark who starts laughing uneasily. "I had a visit from the king's son a few weeks back and he told me that he might be willing to give the remaining Eirikssons support in one more battle against Håkon." Norway lifted an eyebrow questioningly, "and this is the reason for you acting like you have just burned down a village and hope that nobody will notice?"

That caused Denmark to laugh, that loud, booming laughter that would usually echo in nearby valleys, had there been any. "I just didn't realize his promise of helping would get you back on your feet this quickly" he said cheerily. What Denmark didn't say was that he believed Harald Eiriksson must have had a talk with the king's son and accepted his deal to gain his support. "I still don't understand why that would make you act nervous" Norway said simply but he didn't push the issue further.

* * *

From that day forth Norway kept regaining strength slowly but surely and he started to look something like his old self. After a couple of weeks he had gained enough weight to hide the earlier protruding ribs and his face had lost most of its haunted looks since the darkened skin under his eyes had finally faded to a more normal color.

One morning Denmark awoke and when he walked into the living room he found the Norwegian holding a short sword in a clear battle position, apparently testing out whether or not his strength was back. "So I assume you are feeling better" Denmark muttered sleepily. Norway whirled around pointing the blade at the newly arrived Dane and but lowered it once he realized who it was.

"I guess you can say so" Norway said, "And also I am sick of feeling weak and useless and I would like to get back to my own lands where I belong." "Are you that eager to leave me" Denmark pouted dramatically and Norway shot him an angry glare in return. The Dane opened and shut his mouth as if he was about so say something but thought better of it. It was probably for the best not to annoy the angry and possibly desperate Norwegian wielding a sword in his living room.

"If you so badly want to test out you sword arm, why don't we go out and spar some, instead of doing it inside my house where you can accidentally break something" Denmark suggested lightheartedly and maneuvered around Norway who had started doing some more testing slashes through the air. "Perhaps we could" Norway said emotionless "but I still think you are far the greater threat to your furniture than I am at any given moment."

Denmark chuckled loudly and grinned for himself. Just hearing the Norwegian throwing insults like he would previously had done made him feel like things were getting back to Normal. It was not a nice feeling going day after day wondering if Norway would still keep breathing when the next day would come.

* * *

Outside the sun was shining brightly and the two personifications found an empty patch of grass outside where they could spar for a couple of hours. Norway was uncertain and hesitant in the beginning, but realizing that his skill had not significantly diminished greatly he grew more confident gradually increasing the difficulty level of the maneuvers he performed. Denmark merely grinned as they were exchanging blows with each other.

After several hours of going at it they were both panting for air and sweat were shining on their bodies both from the summer heat and from exertion. That's when they were interrupted by a loud voice yelling to them. "Getting ready for the defeat of the false king Håkon?" Norway gave a suspicious look at the newly arrived man, the one Denmark identified as the voice of the man that was now his king after the old King Gorm had passed on a few days earlier. "You bet we are!" Denmark answered cheekily.

Harald was smiling as he walked up to them, "I want the both of you to be in shape when we are ready to sail north." Norway sent a confused glance in Denmarks direction making it clear that he had no idea of what was going on. "Oh! That's right!" Denmark exclaimed. "You two haven't formally met yet. Lukas this is the king Harald Gormsson." Norway only stared at the king face blank of any emotion.

"I understand I have you to thank for giving support to Harald Eiriksson and his brothers" Norway said calmly after a while of quiet. "This time yes" Harald smiled, "My father did the mistake of rushing, he didn't plan it closely enough and just sent an army to the north. I have no intention of making that same mistake. This time we will prepare properly before we sail."

"Why are you so intent of getting Eiriksson into power?" Norway asked curiously eying the king closely. Harald kept the same small smile on his lips, "Harald and his brothers are my nephews, and I should help them shouldn't I? And from what I figure it would be good for my own country to have the right connections in the north." At this point the king's smile turned slightly devilish. "I know that your last king exiled you and my nephews are the only chance for you to get back to your own lands where you truly belong, Norðvegr."

Norway dropped the blade he had held and it made a muffled clang as it hit the grass. The king had bored his eyes into the Norwegian and smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction he got from having revealed the personifications true name. "I will keep you updated" the king stated simply before he turned to leave without any further words.

Norway was standing unmoving for several seconds, just watching as the king disappeared between the buildings. "How does he know me?" he asked Denmark with a whisper, but he received no answer. He turned to glare at the Dane who was standing unmoving as well, swallowing uneasily. Norway slowly picked up the sword from the ground and pointed it at Denmark moving towards him with murder in his eyes. "How does he know me?" he repeated, anger practically dripping from his voice.

"He sort of guessed who you are when he figured me out" Denmark said quietly before he let out a nervous chuckle, "trust me I was just as surprised as you are now." "It should not be possible" Norway said coldly still not lowering the blade. "He is not even of my people and usually only the king that is capable of recognizing his country and that man is most certainly not my king."

"That is sort of where you are wrong" Denmark answered slightly hesitantly, he had not been looking forward to this conversation. "What did you say?" Norway glared at him, "what do you know that you haven't told me?" "Your king to be made a deal with my king in order to get the support he needs to defeat Håkon" Denmark answered "And that deal makes my Harald the king over Eiriksson and therefore makes him your king as well if the next battle is won."

"And you didn't tell me this before!" Norway yelled moving the blade closer to the Dane, making no attempt to hide his anger. "That if I am to get back to my land it is at the cost of my people having to bend the knee to a Danish king! There is no way they will accept it." "Harald believe that they will" Denmark answered. "Harald Eiriksson will be the king of Norðvegr and since he is the grandson of Harald Hårfagre they will accept him, it is just that if needed he would have to do what my king asks of him."

Norway just stared at the Dane still not showing any sign of letting down the blade from the threatening position. "It was the only way to keep you alive Norge" Denmark said loudly, shrugging his shoulders. "This is not worth it" Norway whispered in return. "But it is!" the Dane answered in frustration not caring that the sharp end of a sword was getting way to close for comfort. "It is worth it Norge" he said. "I'd take any deal my king had to offer as long as it meant keeping you alive."

"But in this case it was not my doing alone" Denmark continued. "Your king was the one accepting the deal in the first place and you swore your loyalty to him and you have to respect his choices." Finally Norway let the blade fall and the anger in his face washed away in favor of frustration. "I will get my lands back" he said determinedly. "I just want to help you" Denmark answered quietly.

* * *

For the third time in only a few years the Norwegian king Håkon heard new of ships coming from Denmark. The two first had come within a year of each other and he had almost begun to hope that the Danes and the sons after Eirik Blodøks had finally given up the hope of claiming Norðvegr from him. This time the news came so abruptly he had barely time to gather and army that would be able to defend the lands, most of them were farmers and not really meant to fight a larger battle. But he had to work with what he had. He had chased the Eirikssons and the Danes of two times before and this time would be no different.

The still could not help to be nervous when he saw the approaching army drawing closer. "By the gods" one of the men in the kings jarls exclaimed, "They by far outnumber us, how can we possible defeat them." Håkon realized he had to talk courage in to his men or risk losing this battle. He stepped forward, making sure that most men in his army could see him and knew that his enemies were watching from across the field.

"Nordmenn[2]!" He yelled. "Once again we are standing ready to defend our land against the sons of Eirik Blodøks, the man who claimed the throne by slaughtering his brothers. But we will not let them succeed, they will not be allowed to rule like their father before them. They will not defeat us." Håkon took a short break to enjoy the silence meaning that he had every person's attention drawn to himself.

"I am not afraid of this boy claiming he has the right to the throne. Are you?" An angry roar from the army resounded like thunder and Håkon grinned confidently. "I will prove to you that I am not afraid and then we will bring them down!" He received another roar in response and then he proceeded to undo the chainmail he bore, tossed it to the side and pointed his blade towards the mostly Danish army. "Now attack!" he screamed.

* * *

On the other side of the field Denmark was staring with his mouth wide open at the Norwegian king. "Why would he do such a thing?" he asked loudly. "He is outmanned and he tosses aside his mail. How dumb can he be?" "Dumb is exactly what he is not" Norway said calmly from his side. "He just showed his entire army that he is not afraid of us and now they are more eager than ever to beat us."

"Well we can't let them think that they can beat us now can we?" Denmark asked with a grin and readied the battleaxe. "Hopefully we can bring him down this time" Norway answered. "You're always so gloomy Lukas" the Dane laughed, "now let's get your kingdom back." And with that the Dane ran off with the Norwegian in his heals for the battle to begin.

* * *

The Danish army was underestimating the Norwegians yet again. Håkon knew how to fight a battle and the opposing army was forced to retreat towards the ships they had first arrived with, Håkon and his men at their heels. "I will not let him win this time!" Norway screamed as he was being dragged away from the battle by two men and Denmark. "There is nothing you can do Lukas" the Dane tried but knowing it would not calm the other.

"Håkon defeated the two men that challenged him directly for tvekamp and now there is no more fight in our men." Denmark was looking at the battlefield where the Danes were retreating from the angry Norwegians, leaving them vulnerable for further damage. "Let me go!" Norway demanded. "Only if you promise you will not run out there again" the Dane pleaded. "Håkon is too good a swordsman."

"But he is a swordsman without mail and I don't need a blade to end him." At this point it was impossible to tell what kind of emotion was actually hidden in the voice of the Norwegian, but it was something in it that made Denmark nod to the two men holding him back, giving the okay to let him free. "Now give me a bow" Norway demanded as soon as his arms were freed.

At first no one reacted, they just waited while people around them were still retreating. "I am going to end this, now give me a bow!" Norway held out an arm and it only took a short wait before one of the soldiers hesitantly handed him one in addition to a single arrow. "Lukas, are you sure about this?" Denmark asked hesitantly.

"Make way for the king's bane" Norway said quietly, but he still had the attention of everybody within earshot. People cleared a path for him, most likely scared by the determined look on his face as he lifted the bow and drew the string of the bow to his cheek taking slow steps through the crowd to get the shot he needed.

* * *

When the Eirikssons and the Danes started retreating back to the ships, Håkon knewthe battle was won. He had not expected anything to happen, so he found himself in shock once an arrow whistled through the air and imbedded itself deep in his arm. The rest of his men were quick to drag him away from the frontline, hiding him from possible other threats to be sent through the air.

"Are you alright my lord?" one of his men asked as he knelt by his king in order to check the injury. "It is just my arm" Håkon answered firmly. "It is no danger. Just pull out the arrow already and get it over with."

The man did what he was told and gripped the handle of the arrow still sticking out of the king's arm. Knowing that removing it would be painful he gave it a harsh yank to pull it out as quickly as possible to not cause the king more pain than necessary.

He failed miserably on that part as the king screamed in agony clutching his arm. "Dear gods" one of the king's jarls whispered. "Why is there so much blood?" "They used barbed arrows!" the man still holding the arrow screamed. The king was screaming trying to stop the blood flowing freely down his arm that had been torn open as the arrow was pulled out, but the red stream refused to stop.

* * *

Norway was longingly staring at the lands they were leaving behind yet again and it pained him to see the mountains slowly shrink as the distance to them kept growing. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts he didn't notice Denmark approaching until he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked voice soft with concern.

"Yes I am" Norway answered calmly without tearing his gaze from the shores. "Are you sure?" Denmark seemed uncertain as he asked. "We did lose the battle and the last time you did you got sick, so why aren't you now?"

"Because we didn't lose this battle" Norway answered still not turning his gaze away. "Our retreating army and the nick in my battleaxe tells me otherwise" the Dane complained loudly. "Their king is dying" Norway said and a slightly smug smile was barely visible on his otherwise unemotional face. "You only hit him in the arm!" Denmark shook the Norwegians shoulder as if that would get his message through. "An arrow to the arm doesn't usually kill a man."

"In this case it will" Norway was still keeping calm, even though the Dane beside him was stressing like mad. "How can you be so sure?" "Because I feel stronger" Norway answered and now he made the earlier smile apparent. "I can feel the sea again and the forests back on land. I can feel my lands again as he is losing power, minute for minute. It won't take long before it is over for him."

* * *

Håkon den gode had died after the wound from the arrow had become infected; his fleet had never even made it back to the king's home village before he passed. Håkon had no son to take over the throne after him and in order to bring peace to the land he made an announcement to his people asking them to accept the Eirikssons as the rightful rulers of the lands. They were after all the grandsons of Harald Hårfagre.

It took one more year before a fleet from Denmark sailed back to Norway after the battle of Fitjar. This time the Danish king Harald Blåtann had decided to come with Harald Eiriksson to the north as the rule of Norway was to be finalized. Harald Eiriksson was wearing a great grey cloak made out of squirrel fur that had earned him the name of Gråfell[3] and separated him from the rest of the people since nobody else worse such a cloak.

A crowd was gathered on land to greet them as the ships approached land with the new king. Harald Blåtann had an arm laid brotherly around the shoulders of Gråfell and smiled brightly as they walked through the group of people on to a small hill making it possible for everyone gathered to see them once they were standing atop it.

Harald Blåtann held his arms out and silenced the crowd. "Today is a great day!" he roared, "This foolish dispute over the throne is finally over and peace can again settle over these lands." He received a fair share of cheers from the crowd. "It is my honor to present to you, the king of Norðvegr Harald Eiriksson." Gråfell stepped forward to the second wave of cheers and smiled to his people.

"Thank you" he said. "It is good to finally have this matter settled and I would like to thank my uncle king Harald Gormsson of Denmark for all his support, had it not been for him I would not have been able to stand here as your king." The crowd was quietly talking amongst themselves. "As a reward for all his aid Harald and his people will have our support should they need it" Gråfell continued.

"I will regard this man as my king. And you should do the same." This was a command from Gråfell and everybody knew it. The few words Harald Blåtann had demanded him to use as he was to speak to his people. The murmur among the people increased, but no one protested. "All hail the kings!" one of the jarls yelled and everybody present bowed in respect to both of the kings standing on the hill.

* * *

"See" a cheery Danish voice whispered "that wasn't as bad as you made it seem now was it?" Norway completely ignored him and continued to stare up at the hill in waiting for the signal that would allow everyone to rise up again. Harald Blåtann was the one to give a wave of his hand and the crown silently rose to their feet again.

Norway grabbed the Dane by the arm and dragged him a bit away from the rest of the people. "Hey, careful Norge" Denmark laughed, "or I might have to run and tell my king that you are not behaving." Norway snarled at that comment. "I am grateful for all that you have done to help, but I don't think this is a joking matter, not at all." "So why did you drag me away from the people before you wanted to talk?" the Dane asked, still grinning at the Norwegian.

"I want to know what you get out of this deal between our kings." Norway was clutching the Danes arm, fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic. "You know what" Denmark answered. "You get a king and my king has earned the right to get his help if so needed." "So you think this is a noble act from Harald Gormsson, to help his nephew gain the throne?" Norway asked, not letting go of the Dane.

"Yeah, of course" Denmark said without hesitance. "What else would it be?" "Some way for your king to gain more power" Norway answered coldly. Denmark laughed, long and heartily. "Don't be silly Norge. I think all that without king and lands have made you just a little paranoid. Well that is finally going to get better now."

"So you don't know about the taxes he is demanding from Gråfell then?" Norway asked and finally let go of the fabric he had been clutching. "What taxes?" Denmark asked and seemed honest and completely oblivious.

"Matthias!" a great booming voice interrupted their conversation. The two of them turned to the sound and saw the Danish king waiting waiving for Denmark to join him. "Sorry Norge" the Dane said. "Seems I've have to go now. But will stay in contact, probably even better than before since we both are under the rule of Harald Gormsson now." Denmark smiled and pulled Norway to a hug, ignoring the protests from the other.

Norway watched as Denmark ran over to his king and as the group of Danes went over to their ships to sail back. They had after all just come to Norway to make sure the Norwegians knew they had to consider Harald Blåtann as their king, even above their own Harald Gråfell. He knew that only trouble could accompany that Danish king. One thing was that he had gained the support of all of Norðvegr; the other was that he had kept important information hidden from the personification of his own lands.

* * *

At the moment there was nothing to do with the situation but accept it. Norway had to admit that it felt good to be back where he belonged and now that Harald Gråfell was king he could slowly but surely feel as the link with his people was beginning to mend and he felt stronger than he had in years.

Now he could only return back to his village and stay there until his king would have need of him. He could finally get back to his home, if it still was standing. Being banished he had left Ìsland behind in the care of someone else. He was wondering if the child would even remember him after all this time, but then he had to remind himself that the child was a personification and would not forget that easily.

The Danish king would have to be a worry for a different time. At the moments there was other business that was of much greater importance.

* * *

**AN:** One thing I am seriously wondering is what kind of relationship people are actually hoping will develop between the characters throughout the story.

I know** I** want there to be at least some level of romantic feelings between some of the characters as it seems ridiculous to base a future union on friendship alone. Just felt like I should mention that.

* * *

[1] Blåtann is Norwegian meaning "Bluetooth" and yes this is the guy the Bluetooth thingy is named after. They used his name because he had some great communication skills.

[2] "Nordmenn" is the Norwegian word for "Norwegians"

[3] Gråfell is Norwegian meaning "Greycloak"


	14. Plots and false agreements 970

**Plots and false agreements 970**

Norway had been summoned to meet with Harald Gråfell. He had no idea why, but when the king demands something it is best to do as one is told. He had barely stayed in contact with the king after the battle of Fitjar. The man had turned out to become very much like his father had been before him to the grief of many, making him unpopular with a large portion of the people. He had a mind to be vicious and would not hesitate to kill anybody standing in his way.

Gråfell's income had increased greatly over the last few years and he was no longer as dependant on his uncle any more for money and support otherwise. That was also why he had found it perfectly acceptable to murder two of his own cousins that had worked for the Danish king and were responsible for taxes. Norway wondered if the alliance with his uncle was even in existence after that.

When Norway arrived to the king's house the man himself was seated on the throne, wearing that grey cloak that was the reason for his name. Norway had told him his real identity after he had been crowned king, but by the way the man was staring at him as he approached he knew that he still found it strange. Humans never found it easy how he never aged like they did.

"Lukas" the king greeted simply, "I'm glad you could make it." Norway didn't get the chance to respond before the king continued. "I have a favor to ask of you and I will not accept no as an answer." "I would not refuse you" Norway answered calmly "what is it you need of me?"

Harald rose up from his throne and started pacing back and forth in the room. "I will be leaving the country for a while. My uncle is in need of our help and according to our deal I cannot refuse him. I want you to stay here in my place and make sure the land is being ruled properly." "What?" Norway was surprised by the request put didn't make any signs that he would protest against it. "You are going out into battle and you are leaving me behind, even though you know who I am."

"Absolutely" the king said angrily all of a sudden. "Who you are is exactly the reason why I want you to stay behind. My uncle and I have not been on the best of terms the last few years and I would rather keep you as far away from the man as possible, because he knows who you are as well. There is no telling what that man has planned."

* * *

So Norway was left behind while the king and a large army sailed down to Denmark to aid Harald Blåtann. The thing Gråfell didn't know was that he was never meant to come back from the battle he was sailing towards. Arriving in Denmark he murdered in a carefully planned ambush. When the news reached the north Harald Gråfell's remaining brothers fled the land so that they would not be the next to fall.

Harald Blåtann had already pointed out a replacement for Gråfell. A Jarl with the name of Håkon Sigurdsson that had been staying in Denmark for a few years after Harald Gråfell had driven him away from the land. Norway received words of all the events from the south as he had been left in charge with Gråfells jarls and advisors. He got orders to greet the Jarl once he came from Denmark to act as king of Norðvegr in place of Harald Blåtann now that Gråfell was dead.

* * *

Norway of course sensed it once the ships from the south came into the waters belonging to his lands and he walked down to the shore to wait there for the ships to arrive. Several people walked passed him as he was standing there unmoving, waiting and hours passed. His dark blue cloak was flapping madly as the wind picked up but he showed no signs that it was bothering him the slightest.

He had received words that said Håkon, his men and a group of priest would be in the ships when they arrived. It made Norway angry to know that the Danish king though he could take a nation's religion and change it because he desired it so. Not that Norway had anything he could say against anything. Lately he could just stand by and watch as decisions were being made around him and he had no say in it at all.

He knew that Blåtann had sent a man he believed to be fully loyal to him, so he did not believe that anything would change with this new king arriving with the ships that could barely be spotted in the horizon now. Norway sighed as he saw the them; he was wondering why he was even standing there on the shores at all waiting, perhaps some sense of duty he could not rid himself of? Perhaps it was the need to greet his new 'king'.

* * *

Norway folded his arms and observed curiously as the ships finally arrived and the men onboard started working on securing them. A few of the villagers had come to greet them and pointed towards the house that had earlier belonged to Harald Gråfell. One of the men turned around to take in the surroundings and spotted Norway standing further away just looking at them.

The man spoke some words to his men and walked up to Norway with hasty steps. "Please tell me that your name is Lukas" the man panted slightly. Norway eyed the man suspiciously. "How do you know who I am?" he asked. The man broke out in a smile. "I am Håkon Sigurdsson the jarl sent to take over after Gråfell. Harald Gormsson told me about you, what you really are, and when I saw you I just knew it had to be you."

Norway gave an acknowledging nod of his head but didn't unfold his arms. "So what do you intent to do about the knowledge you now posses?" "Harald wasn't exactly clear on the details on what the purpose of your kind really is, but I figured I better learn more about you." The man did not at all seem bothered by the cold tone of voice and defensive pose Norway used against him.

"I thought you were supposed to bring a group of priests with you from Denmark" Norway changed the topic and he was curious to why he had not seen any of the religious men step of the ships. "Well to be perfectly honest I don't really have that much of a belief in that Christian god they try to make us believe in" Håkon's smile turned slightly smug as he spoke.

Now Norway did drop his arms down and looked at the man in surprise and Håkon smiled cheerfully. "As soon as we had sailed far enough away from Harald's village we kind of dumped the priest on land and left them behind." Now Norway smiled as well. "And what do you think the Danish king will think of that?" Norway asked.

"I don't really care" Håkon answered, and the careless attitude of his reminded Norway so much of how a certain Dane would usually behave. "I got what I needed from the man and I don't need his help anymore. I am here in Norðvegr, far away from his grasp and I intent to step on his fingers to make sure he lets us go for good."

Norway still held the surprised smile on his face and looked curiously at Håkon. "It is my honor to be in at your service my king" Norway said and then he went down on one knee and bowed his head in respect for the man.

* * *

**AN: **There is a lot of question of what actually happened between Harald Blåtann, Harald Gråfell and Håkon Sigurdsson. According to what I found out Blåtann was plotting to get Håkon in charge instead of Gråfell so he could restore his power in Norway, but Håkon sort of cheated him, he pretended to have accepted the Christian religion but when he came to Norway he turned to be a true believer in the Norse mythology and even claimed to be a son of Odin.

Yeah... Norway and Denmark have some issues they need to work out...


	15. Human emotions 986

**AN: **Thank you people for all the feedback! Just amazing, here is a new chapter for you all^^

* * *

**Human emotions 986**

"Norge!" the yell was accompanied by loud knocking on the door of Norway's house late one autumn night. "Norge!" the yell sounded again, this time seeming more desperate than the first and the knocking increased in intensity. Norway would not have bothered to open the door at all if it was not for Iceland sleeping in one of the other rooms, and the fact that the Dane would probably knock down the door or break through a window if knocking and yelling gave no result.

When he finally unlocked the door he almost immediately found himself being crushed in the embrace of the Dane, not that it was a new thing. "Norge! You're okay!" Denmark exclaimed loudly. "Of course I am" Norway said angrily, but his voice was muffled from having his face pressed so closely to the Danes chest. "What are you doing here? It's in the middle of the night!"

"I came here to save you" Denmark said and now Norway was confused for real. The Norwegian finally managed to wriggle his way out of the embrace and gave the other a puzzled look. "Were you drinking before you came here?" he asked not caring how harsh his voice sounded at the moment.

"What! No I didn't" Denmark protested intensely. "Then why would you think I need saving then?" Norway asked and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "We haven't spoken for years, Gråfell refused to let me do any fighting and Håkon Sigurdsson broke of contact with your king when he refused to accept your Christian god." "I know" the Dane answered. "Harald said that was up to some bad stuff, but we didn't manage to gather an army big enough to defeat him until now."

"What!" Norway yelled "You are going to attack Håkon." "Yeah" the Dane answered and he did not seem to have picked up the distress in the Norwegians voice. "Harald said I could come up here on my own and bring you back to my place so you don't have to be a part of the battle. If we leave now while it's still dark there's a chance that it will take some time before anybody notices that you have even gone."

"Forget it Danmark[1], I'm not coming with you." Norway was angry now. "Why not?" the Dane asked frustrated "why do you never want my help?" Norway angrily threw his arms out. "You haven't even asked me if I needed help at all and I was doing perfectly fine until you told me there is a Danish army heading this way."

"But I thought your king was crazy and wouldn't let you see me again" the Dane said. "It has been years since I saw you last. I missed you." "I stayed away because I don't think your king would be happy to have dealings with my people at the moment" Norway answered with anger evident in his voice. "And Håkon gave my people a chance to get rid of the taxes your king demanded of us, there was no way I would give up that opportunity."

Denmark's facial expression started to turn slightly desperate but Norway held up a hand to keep the Dane from talking a while longer. "All those years ago when Gråfell was first let into power your king didn't even tell you about the taxes he demanded from my people and now you believe it when he tells you that my king is some crazy heathen."

"Why are you so blind to the fact that your king is only after power" Norway growled and bore his cold eyes into the Danes. "Apparently he thinks that you don't share his ambitions and he tells you some lie that gives you a reason to do his bidding without even knowing what it is you are really doing. Your king wants you to bring me back to your place probably to have leverage against mine, but what is in it for you?"

Norway was breathing heavily after the long monologue. He was not one to talk that much but now he was angry. Denmark was opening and closing his mouth like a fish on land, apparently not finding the words to respond and possibly still processing everything he had just heard.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay Norge" the Dane started quietly and Norway huffed in response. "And I don't see why" he said coldly. "Why do you even care, it is not like my well being affects you in any way." "But that's exactly what it does" the Dane protested and his voice gained back some of its power. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"I spent months, even years looking after you when you almost died after being exiled and I don't ever want to see something like that happen to you again. And I miss you; I liked having you stay at my place, at least when you got better again" The Danes eyes sparkled as he talked, but it did not seem to affect the Norwegian at all. "You sound so human" was the answer he got.

"Those sounds like things a human would say. You are supposed to care about the welfare of your own country and not about me as a person." Norway had managed to hide the earlier emotions from his face and stared blankly at the Dane. "Your people are planning to attack my lands and bring down my king; you are supposed to be with them and prepare to fight with them."

"I just wanted to keep you safe, so what is wrong with acting human?" the Dane asked, now frustrated. "We are not human Danmark" Norway answered. "Not entirely, human emotion will only serve to hold us back." "I think you're wrong Norge" the Dane said. "If we were not supposed to have human emotions, then why would we even have them in the first place? And when Harald Hårfagre first started the fight to become king, he did it for love. His human emotions were what drove him, why should they not work the same way for us?"

"Human emotions or not" Norway glared as he spoke. "It doesn't change the situation we are in at the moment. Your king has an army on the way and I intend to stand side by side with my king in the fight against him." "But Norge…" the Danes voice had turned slightly thick as if he was fighting to keep back some emotion. "I will have to fight beside my king even if you don't come with me now."

"And that's the way it's supposed to be" Norway snapped, still with the same cold tone. "We are personifications, and we are supposed to stand by our kings against whoever they might wish to fight. And you still don't think that human emotions are in the way?" "I had hoped I wouldn't have to fight against you Norge" the Dane said quietly.

"If you really don't wish to fight me then make your king stop the attack they plan on my king" Norway said angrily. "But you know I can't do that" Denmark sounded desperate now. "We have shared a king before and it wasn't that bad. Please… I just want to make sure you're safe"

"Get out" Norway snarled and pointed towards the door, still open after the Dane had first burst in. "I said I am not coming with you and I fully support my king in his choice of breaking the deal with Blåtann" he spat out the nickname of the Danish king like it was venomous. "We have nothing more to talk about."

"Norge, please" the Dane begged but there was nothing to be said that would sway the Norwegian over. "Get out" Norway repeated "before I yell and let the entire village know that some Dane is here and planning on bringing down their king. They would not take very kindly to that."

Demark gave up and went for the door, he would have to return to his lands and help the kings son prepare for battle. He turned to look back at the house and saw Norway standing in the doorway to make sure that he was truly leaving.

* * *

When he could no longer see the Dane Norway finally shut the door and slumped down by it, resting his back on the rough wooden surface. He was desperately trying to sort out his thoughts from the conversation. Demark had certainly gone through a lot of trouble in order to made him go back with him. He was frustrated of how the Dane could not understand that he wanted to have a people ruled by one of his own.

Talking sense into Denmark would have to be a problem for a different time. Right now there was an army that would sooner or later make its way to the north and he had to tell the king about the threat. Now that they knew the attack was coming they would have time to prepare themselves properly.

He would have to go see the king. Håkon needed to know what was coming his way. If the Danes had indeed gathered a great army the king would need help not only from the counties closest to his village. They would have to summon the people in leiðangr[2] if they were to have any hope of stopping the Danes from defeating Håkon and make their own king rule over Norðvegr again.

He had no idea of how long time the Danes would use before they would sail north, so e figured he should leave immediately. They could already be on the way already, or just waiting for Denmark to return. That was enough for Norway to gather the willpower to get up from the floor. He would have to pack a small bag with food and clothes that would be necessary for the trip to Trøndelag[3] where Håkon had his home.

Ìsland was not too happy about being woken up in the middle of the night and he frowned when Norway said he was leaving. The child had not entirely forgiven him for having been gone for several years the last time he went away for one battle. But on the short walk over to the house where Saga's descendants lived he fell asleep in Norway's arms again and didn't wake when he was passed over to the young woman opening the door at Norway's knock.

He was ready for a long night spent on horseback; he had no time to waste and kicked the horse into a gallop and set for Trøndelag. With a few words of magic the clouds covering the moon faded and the pale moonlight was free to light up the path, making the road easier to travel.

* * *

Denmark had met up with the fleet that was ready back in his land, led by Svend Haraldsson also going under the name of Tveskæg[4]. The king Harald Gormsson had grown old and found it better to have his eldest son leading the battles instead of him. Svend had not been in the best of moods when Denmark returned without the company of the Norwegian personification.

"One thing is that you didn't convince him to come with you" the king's son said angrily and glared at Denmark. "The other is that now the Norwegians know we are on our way there and what our plans are." "Trust me" Denmark answered defensively "they would have found out quick enough when we got there. It is not like you can hide a fleet of 60 ships very easily as you sail along the coast in search of their king and his army."

"I need to win this battle in order to honor my father" Svend said and his eyes burned with determination. "Håkon Sigurdsson defied my father and we will bring him down for his insolence. "But even with this setback we should be able to win now that we have the Jomborg Vikings on our side." "You mean you manage to convince Jarl Sigvalde to join us in the fight?" Denmark asked curiously.

Svend finally let some of his anger drop and smiled slyly. "Sigvalde and his men certainly like to boast about their abilities, good thing for me that they keep boasting once they start drinking as well[5]." "So you gave them enough drink to make them unable to tell left from right and then made them promise to join you in the fight" Denmark asked.

"More or less" Svend said. "If their boast are correct then Håkon will either die or be driven out of his own land. Some of the other said they would not flee from a battle as long as Sigvalde is alive. Not all of them are happy that drunken oaths are just as binding as sober ones. But that matters not to me because now we have the men needed to win."

* * *

When Håkon Sigurdsson had heard about the threat, he wasted no time before he sent out word to gather every ship available to fend off the Danes. All together they had managed to get around 180 ships to join in the battle, some belonging to wealthy jarls and others to mere farmers[6]. All of the men were ready to fight for the freedom of their country.

Now they were just waiting calmly with ships rocking lightly over the waves just outside of Hjørungavåg. Håkon had picked the location for the fleet in waters that were known to be harsh, especially if the weather was to act up. It would give them an advantage since they were all used to rough seas and knew the ways of the seas around their coast better than anyone. The Danes had ships that beat most of the Norwegians in size, but the numbers were on the northerners' side.

Both sides were getting ready, moving the ships in to position. The archers put arrows on the bowstring, ready to send them flying at a moment's notice. The rest with short range weapons would have to wait until the ship they were on board came up alongside one of the enemy's one, at the moment they could only make a shield wall to protect themselves from the arrows that would surely come flying in their direction.

Norway was onboard one of the smaller ships that would make the first line of defense in front of the larger ship that belonged to the king. Håkon was looking mighty and confident at the stern of his ships, leaning on a heavy long sword just relaxing. Around his neck he wore a pendant symbolizing Odin. He had told Norway before the battle that he strongly believed the gods were on their side in the fight and was confident that they would win.

The king had his gods to believe in. Norway did not tell the man that he had whispered a spell that had began stirring up the sea making the waves wilder for now. Fighting the battle on seas belonging to him gave him a power he had never had in any of the raids made outside of his borders. In his lands the sea and the weather was his to control, and at the moment his fury was fueling him. He would show the Danes just of wild and dangerous Norðvegr could be.

* * *

It didn't take long before a command to attack was screamed out and the two armies readied for attack with a roar that drowned out everything else. As soon as the first yell sounded a rain of arrows started to fall partially coloring the sky black as they whistled through the air. It sounded like a bizarre rainstorm as the arrows struck on wooden shields, and then came the screams of agony as men got hit. It didn't take long after that before the first ships had sailed up alongside each other and the men armed with sword, axes and spears could stab at each other over the railings and then board the opponent's ship to cause more damage.

The Jomsborg Vikings fighting with Tveskæg were more brutal than anyone had foreseen and the battlefield quickly turned in to a gruesome bloodbath at they cut down everyone in their path. Men fell on both sides but Norway realized that if nothing was done soon the Danes would get the upper hand.

That's when one of the other ships sailed up alongside the one he had been aboard and he saw his chance to make a difference as he jumped over to the enemy ship landing perfectly on his feet. The increasing strength of the waves caused the ship to roll heavily, but Norway was barely affected by it while most of the Danes were having an increasingly hard time to keep in balance.

The first one to fall from Norway's assault never even saw it coming. The Danes had started the process of breaking through the Norwegians shield wall in order to board their ship and they hadn't expected anyone from that ship to jump over to their ship, at least not unnoticed. The second Dane wasn't much luckier than the first, but by then the rest of them were mostly aware of the intruder and the moment of surprise was certainly gone.

Norway was aggressively using both shield and sword to force his third victim to step rapidly backwards desperately trying to keep the attacker at bay but failing. The only thing saving him from getting his head cut off, was that the Norwegians blade was stopped mid air with I loud clang as metal met metal.

* * *

Norway snarled as he looked up to find out the reason why his blade had not found its target. What he saw was a grinning Denmark that had blocked it with his battleaxe and was keeping it at bay without any effort. The other Dane Norway had fought took the opportunity to escape and save his life for now. The rest of the army seemed to figure that Denmark would be able to handle the Norwegian on their ship, for there was nobody bothering to step in and aid their fellow Dane.

The two of them had sparred against each other enough times to know almost every move the other would make before he made it making it hard to break through the other's defenses. But this time the rules would be different and they both knew it. Now neither of them could let any opportunity to inflict damage pass and they could not afford to hold back.

Norway broke the contact between the blades and stepped backwards in order to get some room to maneuver better. Denmark made a wide sweep with the axe and forced Norway to step even further back to avoid getting hit and they both got a bit further away from the rest of the fighters who were still ignoring the two of them.

Denmark moved surprisingly fast considering the axe was as heavy as it was and Norway was on the defensive having to block the incoming blows with the shield. On a small ship there was limited space to move around and he could not move further back without stepping over board and into the waves that were foaming as they struck the ships side.

"I'm sorry Lukas" Denmark muttered through clenched teeth. He had always had the habit of talking while he was fighting, and at the moment Norway was struggling just to keep up with him and was barely a threat. "I'm only doing this for my king." Norway only panted as he lifted the shield to block yet another blow, not having the energy to answer.

He was growing tired; the muscles in his left arm burned from all the blows that had hit the shield. The way things were going he would not last long. On the boat there was no way he could find to outmaneuver Denmark and he didn't have the strength to force him on the defensive. He could not keep blocking slashes for long. Even the shield he held had started to splinter at the edges.

Another wave crashed against the ships side and sent water running along the ships bottom. The seas were growing wilder. One particularly strong wave made the ship rock heavily and Denmark almost lost his footing. While the other was struggling to regain his balance, Norway finally saw his chance.

He loosened the leather straps binding the shield to his arm, and with all the strength he could gather he hurled it at Denmark. The flying shield took the Dane by surprise and hit him in the face. He lost his balance for good and toppled over. Blood was streaming down his face, but somehow he managed to keep a hold on the axe.

* * *

He quickly shuffled to his feet and held up the axe defensively. But no blows came his way. Norway was standing calmly at the stern of the ship just looking back at him. Denmark was confused to why the Norwegian had not taken the chance he had got. So he waited, just observing and not moving wondering what would come next.

Above them the sky seemed to darken rapidly, and the cover of clouds thickened blocking every bit of sun out. Norway lifted his eyes to the sky and muttered something Denmark was unable to pick up. And then he realized something was very wrong. The wind started to howl and pick up in strength making Denmark's eyes water slightly.

Norway looked forward again and bore his eyes into Denmark's and they were burning with cold fire. "I will not let you win" he said sharply. "What is happening?" Denmark asked hesitantly clutching on to the axe. A few minutes ago he had been the one with the upper hand and all of a sudden he was feeling nervous.

"These are my lands" Norway continued, his voice calm and controlled. "These are my seas, and here I am the master. You cannot control me!" With those words a gust of wind hit the boat and the force of it sent Denmark flying backwards again, landing on the hard wooden floor of the ship.

Confused and disoriented he tried to get up again, but that's when lightning cracked and the hail started falling. Spheres of ice that whipped down and men started to howl as they got hit. Demark used his cloak to cover his head from the hail and managed to lift his head up. He noticed that Norway had not even moved and he seemed completely unaffected by the weather. For some reason the hail didn't even seem to hit him and all the wind did was to send his hair and coat flapping around him. Denmark didn't understand why, but the sight left him feeling terrified.

* * *

"What is happening?" jarl Sigvalde of the Jomsborg Vikings screamed over the howling wind. His ship had so far stayed out of close combat with any others, but he could see that the tide of the battle was turning quickly. The Danes had held the upper hand up until the weather turned on them and now it all turned into full chaos.

"This weather is not natural" one of the other men in his crew screamed back while desperately trying to cover himself under his cloak from the whipping and the hail. "What kind of black magic have they used to turn the weather against us?" another man howled. "They must have sacrificed to some great demons to bring the heavens down on us like this!"

"I did not agree to fight against trolls![7]" jarl Sigvalde yelled. "Turn the ships around" he commanded. "We are not staying here a second longer." And with that Sigvalde and the remainders of his ships turned around leaving the rest behind.

He ignored the angry yells and the spear coming from a ship belonging to Bue Digre, whom had also sworn to fight in the battle. It didn't take long before he could hear the same man scream for to his men to abandon ship and then jump over board himself.

* * *

Norway took a glance over the battlefield and realized things were finally going in his way. Some of the Danish ships had turned to flee, some men had started to jump over board and the rest were being overwhelmed by the Norwegians who were fighting with increased strength believing that their gods had taken their side in battle.

On the floor of the ship Denmark had still not managed to get up after his fall. Norway quickly stepped over and found what the Dane had probably been searching for. He held up the battleaxe and looked down at the Dane now staring back at him completely helpless now as he was disarmed. Norway tossed the weapon overboard and it quickly sunk to its watery resting ground.

"Norge" Denmark said uncertainly and got himself up in a kneeling position. "You have lost the battle" Norway said without any hint of emotion in either his face or his voice. "It seems I didn't need you protection after all." He still had his own blade and now pointed it at the Dane.

"I'm sorry Norge" Denmark whispered quietly, "I really thought I was going to help you." "I know" Norway answered. "You and your human emotions… They make you so blind to the true plans of your king and now you here and have to pay the price for it." Denmark's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the Norwegian "Norge please."

"I'm sorry Denmark, but I can't let you return unscathed." Denmark wondered if it was actual concern he could see in the other's eyes, but Norway was too good at hiding his emotions so there was no telling if it was. "Your king has a lesson to learn and this is the easiest way to teach him."

Norway gripped his sword with both hands and then drove it into the Danes chest, ignoring the pain he felt in his own as he did so. He let go of the weapon like he didn't want to have anything to do with it anymore.

"It won't kill you" he said, watching as Denmark heaved for breath and struggled not to fall over. "This is the reason why people like us shouldn't have human emotions" Norway continued and then turned to walk towards his own ship. "It will only make it hurt so much more."

* * *

**AN:** This chapter just breaks my heart a little… I feel kind of evil… But things will get better at some point, promise.

* * *

[1] Danmark, if it isn't obvious is Norwegian, Danish and Swedish for Denmark

[2] Leidang is a system to organize ships from all over the country in order to defend the lands against a threat.

[3] Trøndelag is a region in middle Norway

[4] Tveskæg in Danish, Tjugeskjegg in Norwegian and the English name being Forkbeard. The name was given to him because he is supposed to have had a great moustache hanging down looking like a pitchfork.

[5] Jomsborg is believed to have been located at the coast of Germany and they were a feared group of Vikings. It is rumored that they were tricked by Svend Tvæskeg to join the battle. They made promises once they were drunk after a great feast held by Svend and they had to fight to keep their honor.

[6] According to Fagerskinna (a saga about the Norwegian kings) it is said that: 'never before and never again have the Danes held such a battle with the Norwegians'.

[7] The battle of Hjørungavåg was going well for the Danes in the beginning but it turned around for them when they got hit by 'a real Norwegian hailstorm' .It was described to be truly 'trollish' in nature and some of the Danes (being for the most part Christian at the time) though the Norwegians had use black magic to conjure up a storm. Some rumors said that Håkon had even sacrificed his own son to have Valkyries fight on his side in the battle. Sigvalde fled the field because he had sworn to fight Håkon and his men but not trolls.


	16. Christianity or Death 995

**Christianity or death 995**

Things had been relatively quiet for Norway the last few years. He had gone with his people on a few raids to England, even met the nation himself once. The kid had screamed in terror as soon as he saw the Vikings approaching, when he noticed that Norway was among them he started whimpering and crying. It didn't help him or any of his people at all. Norway and the rest of the Vikings left only after they had plundered, burned and extorted high sums of money from his king. Other than that Norway had mostly kept to himself as Håkon rarely dealt with other countries.

Though terrifying the child nation England was not the same when he was the only other nation doing so at the moment. Having the loudmouth Denmark present and laughing as the boy begged for his life would have been much more enjoyable. Even the presence of Sweden would have been welcomed, even if he always stayed so quiet only murmuring simple statement every once in a while.

At least he had Iceland to keep company with whenever he was not out raiding or running errands for the king. It was a nice break from all the fighting, to come home and spend time with the boy that had begun referring to him as brother. The child had spent time with the other children in the village and had started wondering why he didn't have a family like they did. And in order to soothe the child, Norway had told him they were like a very small family themselves. They were like brothers and after that Iceland had started calling him so.

* * *

Peace could never last for very long, Norway knew that. So he was not surprised when one day his senses told him that something out of the ordinary was going on in his lands and causing trouble. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but tapping into the link with his people he could sense both fear and anger. His suspicions that something was really wrong were confirmed a few days later when an urgent sounding knock was heard on his door late at night.

Håkon Sigurdsson looked like he had not slept in days from the dark bags clearly visible under his eyes and judging by the state his hair and beard. "Norway didn't even have time to greet the king before the man stepped over the threshold and started pacing around with hasty steps. "I can't believe it" he muttered and cast nervous glances around the room. "Believe what?" Norway asked shutting the door the king had left open.

"Olav Tryggvasson arrived at Moster a few days ago and he claims that he is a direct descendant of Harald Hårfagre himself, people far and wide are talking about it[1]." Håkon never stopped pacing as he talked and didn't leave room for Norway to talk. "Now his holding mass and making people throw away all our beliefs in the gods in favor of this Christian one. I have to go into hiding. If I show my face he will surely have me killed. The people are accepting him as king and there are less and less people on my side."

"Is this the same Olav Tryggvason known for the raids in England?" Norway asked. He had taken up a seat and was just observing as Håkon walked nervously around the room. "Yes, it was also where he turned to this new God" Håkon replied. "So what is it you want of me?" Norway asked. "If the people are accepting him as king I will have to do the same eventually and I will rather not get in to a quarrel with him."

Håkon made a sound that seemed very much like low snarling. "I suppose that is your duty. But for now I am still your king, but all I expect from you is that you will ride to Moster where he seemed to have made his camp for now. You can offer your services to him, but I want you to keep me updated on his plans as I have to keep a low profile for a while."

Norway frowned slightly at the request, but the king didn't seem to notice. He was not looking forward to meeting Olav. To have two men argue about who had the right for the throne had given him a lot of trouble and he would rather not have the same situation repeated. But he would do as Håkon asked, even if it would seem as though the man had already given up his reign as he was running away after the spread of rumors.

* * *

The ride to Moster would take him a few days, so he could only hope that Olav and his men would still be there by the time he arrived. When he met people on the road he would ask them what they had heard of the man and the answer he got was that if he traveled swiftly he could meet the man at Moster before he travelled on to spread Christianity to the rest of Norðvegr.

So Norway rode, as fast as the horse could handle and he reached Moster when the sun started to set on the third day after he had first rode out. He could see the red shimmer from a great amount of torches burning in the distance, indicating that the king had not yet moved on to a new location.

As he closed in even further, he could take in more details of the king's camp. Mostly it was just a large cluster of tents set up to keep out the elements for the night. Just a few meters away from the first line of tent an armed man gave him a sign to halt the horse. "Why are you coming here at this hour of the night?" the man asked, "have you perhaps come to accept the one true God?"

Norway shook his head "I was just hoping I would be able to have a word with the man named Olav Tryggvason, because I have heard people say he is the king now." "Well he should be" the guard answered briskly. "From what I have heard Håkon fled to hide as soon as Olav stepped foot on land. No man like that should be able to call himself a king of men."

"I guess you have a point" Norway agreed. The guard nodded and stepped out of the road. "You can find Olav in the biggest tent. Perhaps he will have the time to see you." Norway nodded in thanks and set his heels in the horse's side to set it in a trot.

He found the tent without any trouble. It was not only its size that separated it from all the rest, but the loud conversations that could be heard coming from it. The men standing at the door let him pass, barely offering him a glance and he found a place in the crowd gathered before a roughly constructed throne.

The man seated on it was sure to be the Olav Tryggvason. He was yelling to the people gathered, boasting of how he would bring down Håkon Siggurdsson and bring salvation to the people by spreading the word of God throughout the lands. "We have started here at Moster" the man yelled, "and soon we will move on and every single village will have heard of God and will live after his will."

"So when will you leave Moster" Norway spoke up after Olav had finished his speech. The man looked confused and tried to locate the source for the question in the gathered crowd. The men that had been standing around Norway stepped to the side and let him step forward so Tryggvason could see him.

"I don't know you" the king said, "step forward please, and then I would like your name." Norway did as he was bid and stepped up in front of the simple throne. "My name is Lukas" he said. Tryggvason frowned and did not look pleased. "So you have no last name you would care to tell us?" he said and sounded suspicious.

Norway shook his head. "I have no father to speak of and I was found as a child wandering out of the forest. If men need to call me by a last name they use Dovrefostre.[2]" "Raised by trolls huh?" the king interrupted and now he looked as suspicious as he sounded. "Step closer" the man commanded and closely inspected the completely blank faced Norwegian in front of him.

Norway took the few extra steps it took to place him directly in front of the throne. The rest of the men in the room were absolutely silent. Olav stood up and turned out to be at least a head taller than Norway was, making him seem so much more powerful. "It is just a name. Barely anyone bothers to use it" Norway explained nervously under the other man's stare.

"It is not just your name" the king said firmly and without warning he grabbed onto Norway's chin with one hand making him unable to turn his face away. Olav forced Norway's face up and moved his own uncomfortably close and curiously studied his features. "I don't know what it is yet."

Norway didn't move a muscle but the piercing stare of the so called king made him nervous and his breath came in quick, short gasps. "I am the personification of your land" Norway whispered so quietly only Tryggvason would hear it, Olav would find out eventually. The way things were going Håkon would never get back on the throne. "If that is the truth, then what would you be doing here?" Olav hissed in return.

"Håkon Siggurdsson sent me here" Norway replied and tried to Olav finally let go of his chin and laughed loudly with a mocking tone. "So even Håkon realized that his reign has come to an end when he sends you in my direction" he said loudly, a smug look clearly making its way to his face. "I have great plans" Olav whispered, eyes shining excitedly.

"Guards!" he yelled all of a sudden and two men hurried across the room towards them. Norway gave the so called king a confused look. The man turned to his guards. "This man is not allowed to leave this camp; I want one man to stay with him at all times." Olav turned back to Norway and lowered his voice again. "If you really are what you claim to be, then you are not going anywhere. I am the king no and soon I will be in control."

The two guards stepped up, one of them took away the blade Norway had carried around his waist and then they harshly grabbed him by the arms to pull him away from the throne. Olav smiled towards the crowd that had for the most part stayed quiet. "In two days we will start on our journey around the land to spread the word of God." The crowd cheered. "Håkon Siggurdsson is still somewhere to be found and he will die as the heathen he is!" There is nowhere he can hide from me."

* * *

The day after Norway had first arrived at Moster, Olav had ordered him to follow him to a river that ran nearby. Norway did not protest, it was not as if he could and the guards he had been assigned were keeping a close eye on him at all times. On the walk to the river more people followed them, most noticeable was the man dressed as a priest.

When they stood by the riverside Olav walked up to Norway smirking ever so slightly. "This country is going to accept the true God" he said, Norway though the man was truly obsessed with the subject of God. "I will give the people a choice" Olav said "I will not force anyone to accept God; they have to make that choice themselves. They can either take the choice to live the right way or let themselves baptize, or they can chose the devil."

Then Olav lowered his voice and moved his head to whisper the rest in Norway's ear. "But if they chose the devil there is no saving them and I will send them to him straight away." Norway picked up what Olav was hinting at right away and felt a chill run down his spine from the words. "I cannot offer you the same choice though" Olav continued. "If I cannot turn the country's personification to a Christian I will have no hope with the rest of the land, so you are getting baptized whether you want to or not."

Olav had apparently talked to his guards about his plans already, for they seemed to know exactly what to do when Olav gave them a simple not. "Shoes" one of them said simply. Norway had no choice but to pull of the boots and simple woolen socks. They then demanded his cloak and outer tunic. When they were done Norway was standing bare feet on the soft grass in simple short cut trousers and a simple undershirt.

Another man had also thrown of his boots and socks and now he grabbed Norway by the arm and pulled him out in the river. Norway was without words and the other man didn't bother to say anything. The priest followed after them out in the rushing river waters, but he kept on the large, dark cloak completely ignoring that the garment was getting soaked.

The priest started talking about the God but Norway ignored most of it. He mostly looked at the men standing on shore. Most of them silently observed the ceremony, not wanting to interrupt the priest. Olav was only smiling smugly on shore.

The priest talked, and talked and as time passed Norway could slowly feel his legs turning slightly numb from the cold river water rushing by. He was focused on anything but what the priest said, so when he felt a hand on his head pushing him under water he was shocked.

Instinctively Norway started to struggle and water forced its way to his lungs, but the priest was strong and the other man that had followed them out in the river had gripped his arm with one arm and the other was placed behind his neck, helping the priest to keep him under the water until they were done.

When they finally let him up he was coughing up water and gasping for air. The shirt he had worn was soaked and clung to his body. "You are now one of God's children" the priest said calmly, like the protest from Norway had not bothered him the slightest. "Walk in peace."

* * *

Olav had seemed to accept that Norway was who he claimed to be. He was certain that it was a sigh from above that the personification of his land had come to him from Håkon, and he was comfident that his plans would succeed. Just as Olav had said, the camp was taken down on the second day and the group of people prepared to travel from village to village.

On the journey Norway was happy that he was an experienced rider, for otherwise the journey would have been even more uncomfortable than it already was. His hands were tied together and to the front of the saddle making it hard to keep in balance as the company trotted away on the uneven road and he had barely any control over the reins. Tryggvason did not want to risk Norway escaping and he said he would not trust him until Håkon was dead and saw the ropes as a necessity.

They rode all day, and first when night had fallen did they reach a farm belonging to a wealthy man known as Raud. The company made a halt and dismounted their horses. "Bring before me every man, woman and child" Olav yelled. "Make sure that Raud is not harmed." The men got out their weapons and spread out in different directions to the houses on the farm kicking down doors to get in and search for anybody inside.

Olav stayed behind with only a few guars present making sure the horses did not run off without their masters. He walked up to Norway still sitting on the horse. He cut the rope binding his hands to the saddle, but left the one keeping them together. Then he yanked him out of the saddle sending him stumbling down on the ground. "We have a lot of hard work ahead of us" Olav said calmly. Norway remained quiet. He had nothing to say to the man

Norway could feel the fear of his people as the villages were being dragged out to the yard in the middle of the night. Some of them had been beaten, and the women cried and clung to their children. One man was screaming curses as he was being pulled outside by two men.

"And there we have Raud" Olav said loudly with a mocking tone aimed at the man. The cursing man was forced to kneel in front of Olav. "What is the reason for this?" Raud screamed angrily. "You come with a number of armed men and break down my door in the middle of the night. I demand an explanation." "You know who I am?" Olav asked.

"Of course I do" Raud snarled in return, "words about you are spreading like a plague." "Then you know what I wish to do for this country" Olav said, ignoring the rude response he had gotten. The man kneeling on the ground made a low angry growl. "You wish us to throw away the belief we have in our old Gods. The Gods our parents before us believed in."

Olav gave the man a swift kick in the gut so he ended up wheezing for breath on the cold ground. "If you let yourself be baptized I will not take away your riches or your lives" Olav said calmly, "but I will be your friend." "Never will I let myself believe in some weak God and have one of his worshippers as a friend" Raud sneered. Then he continued throwing insult aimed at the new religion.

Pure rage made its way onto Tryggvasons face. "That was a mistake Raud" he said venomously. "You have chosen the devil and I will give you the most horrible death one can imagine." Olav looked at some of his men. "Hold him down" he commanded. "Force his mouth open and bring me the snake."

Raud started struggling madly, but there was no use. His arms were held tightly behind his back and one man locked his head in place before a stick was pushed between his teeth to force his mouth open. Olav was handed a small bag and a faint hiss could be heard from it.

Norway was about to step forward to protest but a firm had held him back. "Do not interfere" a voice mumbled. In front of them Olav was opening the bag and out of it he pulled a small snake by its tail.

Raud screamed and struggled as Olav walked towards him with the snake trying to wriggle its way free from his grasp. "Your words are like a snakes poison" Olav said coldly. "Let the entire world see what kind of worm you are." And with that Olav moved the snake towards Raud's face.

The man let out a horrified scream as the snake found the one place where it could hide from Olav, his open mouth. He kept screaming as the snake made its way down his throat. It only took a few moments before he no longer shrieked in terror but of agony. Soon after Raud went silent and fell over dead[3].

Tryggvason turned to the rest of the people in the yard. "I now offer you a choice. You can either let yourself baptize or you can follow Raud who will now burn in hell for all eternity." After the display with the snake, none of the remaining people from Raud's village protested against Tryggvason.

Olav turned towards Norway. "Soon I will have all the country on my side" he said. "With all the men I have out searching for Håkon, it will probably not take too long before we have him found and I will be the one true king." Norway only returned a blank stare. "You should look forward to that as well" Olav said smugly. "When all competition is gone you can finally lose your guards."

* * *

Weeks passed. Olav Tryggvason and his company travelled from village to village and he gave them all the same choices as Raud's villagers had gotten. It was the choice between Christianity and death. Norway was forced to come along and had to silently watch as Olav and his men forced Christianity on the population. He could sense their fear and their anger and even a hint of hate and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

One evening started out as normal with Olav seated on his makeshift throne in his camp and farmers came to ask for his advice because he acted as king. Norway was standing by the wall observing when loud voices from the outside caught everybody's attention. "What is going on?" Olav yelled and cast a glance towards the tent's opening.

A man holding a bag was dragged in. He was pushed down on the floor in front of the throne. His clothes were ragged and stained with mud. The bag he had held with him was dripping red on the floor in front of the throne. "Who are you" Tryggvason asked sharply.

The man whimpered and refused to answer. Norway stepped up by Olav side "I recognize this man" he said. "Then out with it" Olav said turning his head towards Norway, voice still sharp. "This is Kark and he is Håkon's slave" Norway answered calmly. The man whimpered even more. "Not anymore" he said. Then he grabbed the bag and turned it upside down.

Out rolled the head of Håkon Siggurdsson, face contorted in one last grimace. Olav rose from his throne in surprise. "I offer you the false king's head" Kark cried and grasped for Olav's legs. "Please have mercy on me!" he begged. Olav stared down at the slave squirming on the ground in front of him.

"I respect that you have brought down Håkon" Olav said. "Now I am without a doubt the one true king of Norðvegr." Kark was clutching on to the fabric of Olav's pants making what sounded like a relieved whimpering sound. "But there is one thing I do not respect at all" he said and his voice turned sharp. Kark stared up at the man. "I will never respect or trust a man that betrayed a man they swore loyalty" Tryggvason continued. "You are a vile creature and I demand your head as well[4]."

Kark cried in terror. "No! Please, mercy!" Tryggvason kicked the man with the leg he still had free sending skidding across the room. "Take him away and rid him of his head" he ordered and guards stepped up to drag the screaming man out of the tent.

Olav turned to Norway when the screams died down. "So now Håkon is no more. I assume that there is no longer a chance that your loyalty will be divided anymore." Norway sighed quietly "The people considered you king almost as soon as you came to this land" he said flatly. "My loyalty belonged to you when Håkon gave up his throne and went into hiding."

Olav nodded. "That is good, but now I can be sure." Now that the land is my I can soon start working on getting more power." Norway looked at his new king. The man's eyes were shining brightly. It was like the man though nothing on this earth could bring him down. That could only bring trouble.

* * *

**AN:** I seem to have a talent for turning kings into scumbags, but Olav wanted to Christianize Norway by any means necessary and it did NOT make him a very popular man.

I am considering writing a short "bonus" chapter about Iceland's meeting with Christianity and Olav Tryggvason for Wednesday. And now since I mentioned it i probably will end up doing it ;P

* * *

[1] Moster is where Olav first stepped on land when he came from England after he got baptized and later a church was built here. The rumors about his arrival spread across the land. He had come back thinking it was the time for the grandson of Harald Hårfagre to step up as king. He got a lot of supporters as Håkon Sigurdsson had earned himself some enemies in some areas of Norway.

[2] This is just a temporary last name to fit in the Viking age. It is actually a name rumored to have been used for Harald Hårfagre. Dovre is the name for a troll so the name basically means 'raised by trolls' and it sort of fits Norway since I had him grow up among trolls.

[3] The story about Raud and the snake is taken from a saga about the Norwegian kings, but I have no idea of how likely it is to kill a man in that fashion. But no matter what, Olav was known for using cruel methods and threats to make the people Christian.

[4] Håkon and his slave Kark had been hiding at a farm in a hole underground. When people had searched for them Kark became nervous and slit Håkon's throat. Then he cut of his head and offered it to Olav Tryggvason. Olav was grateful that Håkon was dead but had the slave beheaded for his betrayal.


	17. Damned are those Icelanders

**AN: **I will try my best to get the next chapter out on Saturday, but it is one that I really want to turn out good and I have been really busy lately… I moved back to mainland Norway after a school semester on Svalbard and there are just a lot of things to get in order and i have already started in my job. Just to let you know next chapter might be a week late, but it should be a good one I hope.

* * *

**Damned are those Icelanders**

Olav Tryggvason worked hard on the Christianization of the land and he sent out a man in order to do the same for the people of Iceland. The man he had sent away went by the name of Tangbrand. He was known for being both handsome and wise, but the king didn't want him in his own service, for the man was also uncontrollable and always looking for a fight. Olav figured it would be better to have a man like that serve him from someplace else.

Back in Norway Tryggvason had travelled around the land to convert the people and to break all the symbols of the old religion. He visited the houses dedicated to the gods and broke the statues representing them before he took the treasures placed there for their honor. This wasn't popular and some of the people rebelled. Olav had to murder the man leading a group of trøndere[1] as they armed themselves and threatened to drive him away from the land. Without a leader the rebellion was ended and Olav could continue.

Olav had founded a new town along the coast where he established a marked to make it a central for trade. He ordered the build of a magnificent ship that earned the name 'Tranen[2].' The only ship to beat it as an efficient war machine was 'Ormen Lange[3],' the ship he had taken after he had killed Raud for not accepting Christianity.

Ormen Lange was larger than Tranen in size and the dragon heads carved in both ends were decorated in gold. With its sails fully up it looked like the dragon had wings and flew over the waters it crossed. The two ships were the pride of his fleet and feared in battle.

In the newly established town of Nidaros, Olav gave out plots of land to the people to have them build houses in order to make the village grow. In this town he managed to gather up most of his court and his hird to have them stay close by his chosen home. Norway had moved to the same village as well as Olav was unwilling to let him live any further away.

* * *

Norway was working on the longhouse when his concentration was broken by the mad squawking of Iceland's pet puffin as it flew by. Only seconds later the child came running and clung to his leg seemingly in terror. "What's wrong?" Norway asked softly. "I'm scared" the child whimpered. Norway was confused "why would you be?" "I don't know" the child replied, voice muffled from pushing his face into the fabric of Norway's clothing. "There was a man walking by on the road and I don't like him."

Norway picked up Iceland in order to comfort him. Walking around the corner of the house so the main road through town came into view, what he saw was the back of a man walking towards the king's house. "I think I might go and see if there is anything going on" Norway said, Iceland whimpered more and clutched on to Norway's tunic.

"Don't worry" Norway said. "I'll be back as soon as I can. There is probably nothing wrong." He put the child down on the ground and put a hand on his shoulder. "Just go inside and wait there. Don't open the door for anyone until I come back." Iceland nodded obediently and ran towards the safety of the house.

* * *

When Norway made it over to the king's house he could hear raised voices coming from inside. "This is not acceptable!" one voice yelled and Norway recognized it as the kings. "I am telling you Olav" a second voice answered but Norway could not recognize it at first, but he assumed it belonged to the man he had seen walking by his house.

"I have spent two years in that hellhole you call Ìsland, trying to turn the people there to the right path, but then they make me look like a fool mocking God and then they threaten me."

Norway stepped into the main room of the house and could see the king and Tangbrand, the priest that had been send to Iceland engrossed in a discussion. He shut the door behind him and first then did Olav notice him but he quickly turned his attention back to Tangbrand. Olav's face was red from anger and his brows deeply furrowed.

"They will all burn in hell" Olav snarled dangerously. "Every damned Icelander will pay for their crime." "My lord" Norway interrupted nervously, "You don't think that you are overreacting a bit now?" "Shut up Lukas!" the king screamed "I do not want your input on this!" the pure fury in the man's voice made Norway wish he could just leave instead of just backing off.

"I want every single Icelander in this town lined up in the town square immediately!" Olav ordered. "Man, woman, child. I don't care, they shall pay!" Olav's eyes were looking wild and his hair was in disarray. Tangbrand was grinning triumphantly.

* * *

Tryggvason hauled Norway by the arm towards the town square where the guards had already started to gather every single person that came from Iceland. "What are you intending on doing with them?" Norway managed to ask as he stumbled along the road. "I am teaching them a lesson and the rest of them will learn not to spite me." Olav replied in a low growl.

When they made it to their destination, Norway could only watch in silence as person after person was being dragged to the town square against their will. But there was one person that caught his attention and made his breath catch in his throat. It was a child with white blond hair and violet eyes, with tears clearly streaking his cheeks.

"Emil" Norway whispered in shock. He was about to run towards the young boy, but Olav still had not let him go and the grip holding him back got even tighter. "You stay here" the king ordered before he turned his attention to the people in the square.

"Your people have rebelled against me" the king said loudly, so that everyone present could hear him. "I try to be good to everybody but then the men I send out to do my work for me gets mocked and threatened. I will not accept it and someone will have to pay." He cast a glance at the villagers that had gathered to watch the commotion. Then he turned a glare at the Icelanders again. "I think your heads sent back to Ìsland would be a sufficient message for the rest of your kind."

The protests, pleads and panic broke out immediately. "No!" Norway exclaimed. "You can't do this, please." In the middle of the square the guards were busy trying to keep the Icelanders under control. Iceland had Norway by his king. "Noregur" the child cried and started fighting against the guard holding him back, punching him over and over with small fists. "Lukas, please!"

Olav glared at Norway. "You know this heathen?" he snapped. "None of them are heathens" Norway stated coldly, never taking his eyes away from the young Icelandic boy. The shaking in his tone revealed that he was both angry and frightened. "He is like a brother to me." Norway said and turned towards the king. "I beg you Olav, please let them live."

"I should have you killed for defying me. Give me one good reason why I should not take their heads off" the king snarled. "These are not the same Icelanders that rebelled against Tangbrand" Norway began. "You can show the rest of them that you are a kind king, let them live and have them baptized instead."

Tryggvason glare at him, clearly not pleased at all. He was angry and looking for something to let his anger out of. "If I get any more trouble with any of this people I will not hesitate to have them torn to pieces and then send their remains to that God forsaken Island! Do you understand me?" "I do" Norway said cautiously, "thank you." Tryggvason finally released his arm and let him go towards the Icelanders.

Tears were still streaming down Iceland's checks when Norway reached him. Norway pulled him into a hug and just held on until the quiet sobs died out. "It's okay now Emil, they are not going to hurt you anymore." The child let out a quiet whimper and nuzzled closer.

Norway could just about feel an angry glare at his back coming from Tryggvason, but there was no way he would let his king hurt the child.

* * *

[1] The people living in the region of Trøndelag are called trøndere

[2] 'en trane' is Norwegian for 'a crane(the bird)' so 'tranen' would mean 'the crane'

[3] Ormen Lange is Norwegian for 'the Long Serpent' it is a very famous Viking ship


	18. Vengeance 1000

**AN: **This chapter is heavily based on Heimskringla both in dialogue and happenings, so I'll ditch the historical notes in this chapter.

Hope you like it ^^

* * *

**Vengeance 1000**

One day there was a company arriving from Sweden with Sigrid, the daughter of a powerful noble among them. When they entered the hall Olav Tryggvason used to hold court in her step echoed as she angrily marched up to the throne where Olav was sitting. "I demand an explanation" she hissed venomously when she finally reached him.

"An explanation for what?" Olav asked innocently with a slight smile. If looks could have killed, Olav would have fallen over dead from the glare Sigrid gave him. "You propose to me, sending a golden ring" she snarled. "The only problem is that it was truly made of copper instead and only coated in gold. I want to know the meaning behind it, what kind of message is it supposed to give." Olav only smiled sweetly at her. The ring he had sent as a gift was one he had taken from one of the old gods' house of worship as he had torn down their statues; he thought it would make a good enough ring to get attention from the Swedish girl.

"I do wish to marry you my lady" he said smoothly. He had succeeded in getting her attention as she had travelled the entire way to ask what he meant with the gift he had sent her. "I did not know that the ring I had gotten for you was a false one." Sigrid's glare didn't ease up at all. "If we are to be betrothed I want a real ring to symbolize it and not this fake piece of junk." She threw the ring on the ground before the king and it made a soft clink as skipped across the floor and disappeared under one of the cupboards by the wall.

"Of course" Olav said and rose from his throne, "but there is one thing I would require from you in return if we are to be married." "What would that be" Sigrid asked suspiciously. "I only require you to let yourself baptize and then I will marry you."

Sigrid let out a low hiss. "I am fine with us having different beliefs and I will not let myself be christened!" Olav's face changed rapidly from calm and composed to red and angry. "Do you think I want you as you are? A heathen dog!" he screamed and rose up before her. Sigrid stepped back from the sudden change seen in the man, but she was not quick enough. Olav slapped her across the face so she stumbled back and fell to the ground.

She gasped and held a hand to forming bruise on her cheek. When she regained her composure she glared up at the king her eyes burning in anger. "Trust me Olav Tryggvason" she snarled. "This will be you bane." She stood up and turned to stomp out of the longhouse with her skirt rustling behind her. Olav chuckled darkly as the front door slammed shut.

Norway stepped out of the shadow by the wall where he had silently observed. "You don't think you went over the line treating her like that?" he asked carefully. "She is of no importance to me" Olav snapped back. "I have someone else in mind I can marry."

Norway sighed to quiet for the king to hear. "And who is this other person you have in mind then?" he asked. Olav slumped back down on his throne smiling smugly. "That Danish king Svend Tjugeskjegg has a sister that I would be willing to take as my bride. She was widowed and she doesn't want the man Svend picked out for her, so I will take my chance. After all, why would she resist me?"

"I didn't think you were too fond of Tjugeskjegg" Norway mumbled. "I don't have to like the man to take his sister as a wife" Olav replied. "So should I make the arrangements to travel south then?" Norway asked. "Absolutely!" Olav answered enthusiastically, "I can't wait to see Tjugeskjegg's face when his sister accepts my proposal."

Norway didn't answer and he didn't ask if Olav wanted to marry the girl just to annoy Svend Tjugeskjegg or if there was another reason behind it. Olav would not listen to anything he had to say anyways. When he was set on something there was not anything that could be done to change his mind.

* * *

Denmark had spent the day out hunting and when he came back one of the kings messengers were standing at the edge of town just waiting for him. Svend wanted his presence in the great hall where guests were usually received. Denmark assumed it was important as Svend wasn't one to ask him to be present without a reason. So after cleaning himself up a bit he walked toward the king's house he was curious to whom the visitor would be.

The smell of food reached him before he could reach the door and indicated that a feast was already in progress for the guests. He used a bit too much force to open the door and it slammed loudly against the wall, making everyone aware of his presence. He stood in the doorway with a sheepish smile on his face before he closed the door again, this time more carefully.

When he started walking over to the table Svend stood up to greet him. "Matthias" he said loud and clearly. "I am happy that you could finally join us. "This is King Olav Tryggvason of Norðvegr" he pointed to the man on the seat next to him.

'Norðvegr', it was the one simple word that made his heart race. He cast a quick glance over the rest of the guest and he found the person he hoped to see. It was Norway, all silent and emotionless staring down at a seemingly untouched plate of food before him. Not even the cheery greeting Denmark gave to the other guest made him look up to acknowledge him.

* * *

For Denmark at least the dinner was a boring affair. He paid no mind to the conversations going on between the two kings as they seemed happy enough at the moment and instead he kept throwing glances in Norway's direction. Nothing Denmark did seemed to catch his attention and he kept his gaze on the plate before him, occasionally moving the food around but never actually eating.

Denmark was forced out of his line of thought as the man sitting next to him put an elbow in his side to make him pay attention to the ongoing discussion. "I think Tyra will make a fine wife" the Norwegian king said. "The two of us joined in union would bind our people closer together." Denmark was listening with his mouth hanging open; maybe the conversation had taken an interesting turn after all he thought.

"Perhaps" Svend said thoughtfully, "it might actually be a good idea." "We should discuss it as soon as possible" Tryggvason sounded impatient and pushed away his plate of food. "You want to discuss it right now?" Svend asked in surprise. "I don't see why not" Tryggvason replied eagerly. "I wish to return back north as soon as possible so I'd rather not wait."

Denmark looked over at Norway yet again, this time in hope of seeing how he reacted to the discussion and what he saw surprised him. Norway was staring at his king and Denmark was sure he could actually see a flicker of fear in his eyes. Had he not known the proposition his king would make to the Danes? No… he had been acting strange the entire time but Denmark could not think of anything that could be a reason.

He finally worked out a plan of how to force the Norwegian to talk to him. Considering how their last meeting went, they had a couple of things that needed to be discussed as well. Denmark cleared his throat and both kings turned their attention to him.

"My lords" he said, "Should not the rest of us clear the room? I doubt you wish the opinions of every man from your company to reach an agreement." Svend looked at him curiously, but Olav actually smiled. "That is actually a good idea" Tryggvason said. "Perhaps we can get the discussion over with quickly then."

"Very well then" Sven said but he still looked at Denmark in wonder. "If everyone is done eating then..." The sounds of benches being pushed away from the table filled the air as everybody rushed to leave the room before the king could even make a demand. The following chaos as everybody attempted to go through the door at the same time was exactly what Denmark had been waiting for.

Norway had tried to hide among the rest of his people, but that did not stop Denmark from grabbing his arm to pull him away from the group. Norway never said anything and barely put up any struggle at all as he was dragged along by the Dane.

* * *

Denmark brought Norway back to his home in hope of getting a conversation started. From the looks of it Norway was not in the mood to talk. He was standing unmoving and silent on the floor. Outside there was the sound of birdsong and people talking, making the silence indoor so much more uncomfortable.

Denmark was frustrated. "Talk to me" he practically demanded, but Norway only responded by turning his head to the side still trying to avoid eye contact. Denmark sighed loudly and grasped the Norwegians shoulders. "Please Norge, we have to talk at some point." He was on the verge of begging.

"The last time we met I drove a sword through your chest." Norway's voice was barely a hoarse whisper. "What do you want, an apology?" his gained a sharp edge to it "because I won't give that to you" Denmark couldn't help but let the corner of his lip quirk up just a bit. "I know" he said, "I understand why you had to do it."

"Norge…" Denmark suddenly found it hard to find the right words. When he first hauled Norway away from the rest of the group he had only planned on discussing what had happened at Hafrsfjord 16 years ago, but they had both done what they thought were right for their king and people and for themselves. And Denmark had other things he felt he needed to say as well and this might be his only opportunity for a long time.

"I can't stand this situation we're in" he continued slightly nervous at this point. "I hate being alone and I hate that that we can't talk, can't meet or anything, it hurts." Norway finally turned to look at him, and the look he gave the Dane was a curious one.

Denmark licked his lips nervously as they had turned as dry as a desert in an instant. "I know that you are not willing to accept any of the human emotions, but I am, even if they hurt, because they are a part of life. You can't see it, but we belong together facing a common enemy and not each other."

"Denmark, stop it," Norway snapped, sounding nervous and tried to move away from the Dane and the grip still on his shoulders, but failling. "No I won't" Denmark protested loudly. "We will live for a very long time and we have known each other for hundreds of years. No disagreement between kings should make us have to fight and ruin everything between us."

Denmark held on to the Norwegians shoulders with enough strength to bruise and he could feel the other male's slight shaking under his fingers. They were standing like that for a long while before Norway made the move to talk. "We should have never even become friends in the first place" he managed to mutter out. "Just friends?" Denmark was clearly disappointed.

"Denmark, don't turn this in to something it was not" Norway's voice was still quiet and held no power. "We can't live our entire life without getting close to anybody at all" Denmark protested, "and I hate being without you."

"You don't want to get close to me" Norway mumbled shakily. "A king has more influence than you think, Olav Tryggvason more than anyone and it doesn't matter what I feel. As long as he is king you should stay as far away from me as possible. Among his friends he is very popular, but if you dare to defy him you better hope he won't find you or anyone you care for, because he will make their lives and yours a living nightmare."

"But he's your king" Denmark said. "You are on his side and surely have nothing to fear from him. Norway let out a bitter laugh and his eyes glinted dangerously. "He wanted to kill a group of Icelanders because their people back in their lands refused to be Christian. Iceland was among them…" Denmark's mouth fell open in surprise. "I couldn't let anything happen to him" Norway continued.

"I begged him to let them live and now Tryggvason still hates me for stopping him. He knows how I feel about Ìsland and if I defy him in any way again he will not hesitate to use that against me. I cannot risk having anybody else in my life that he can threaten at all."

Denmark was left speechless for a few seconds, blinking dumbfounded as he absorbed the information. Apparently Norway did care about him at some level even if he had never shown it and he had been against personifications even having human emotions.

"I am not afraid of Tryggvason" Denmark said in a tone he hoped was comforting and he lessened the grip on the Norwegians shoulders, "I can take care of myself." "I still won't take that risk" Norway said quietly and his face was blank and unreadable. "He might not be able to kill you or Ìsland as you are personifications, but neither of you are invulnerable."

Norway pulled away and turned to the door. Denmark let him go without another word. This time he wanted to show that he could respect Norway's wishes. But he would not give up his attempt at getting through to him. He was certain that no personification should have to be without emotion. There was more to their lives that following the orders of kings without question. After all their lands had people and every single of them had the right to their own opinions, so why should not they have their own choices to make as well?

* * *

A scream of rage resounded throughout the king's house and a pitcher was smashed against one of the walls as Tryggvason expressed his anger. His wife Tyra Haraldsdotter had just told him how the Danes and the Swedes had made an alliance against him. The Swedish girl Sigrid that Olav had refused months earlier had been married to Svend Tjugeskjegg and that way binding the Swedes and the Danes by marriage.

The kitchen staff had escaped long ago and the guards by the door were shuffling their feet nervously, it was apparent that they wished to leave as well. "That swine!" Tryggvason snarled and his wife was staring coldly at him. "You should say nothing dear husband" she said with a voice as cold as her stare. "You never even went to get the dowry agreed on for our marriage."

Olav hissed angrily but it did not scare his wife. "What kind of coward are you?" she continued. "I would not have married you if I knew that my brother scared you so much you don't dare to sail down to him and take what is rightfully ours and now he makes alliances against us."

That was enough for Tryggvason. "Neither man nor woman will ever call me a coward" he screamed. "Never will I be afraid of your brother Svend Tjugeskjegg and if we ever meet he shall fall." Tyra switched out her glare for a sly smile and whispered in a silky voice "And so it shall be."

* * *

Norway was standing on the deck of Ormen Lange and stared out at the fleet gathered so far. Olav had sent out words to assemble a massive army to sail south to Denmark to demand what was rightfully his. Counting Ormen Lange it was only eleven ships present as they had started on their journey along the coast. "The rest of them will come" Olav had said confidently.

They never met their own army. "Ambush!" one of the men on board screamed all of a sudden. Olav ran across deck and to the bow of the ship so he could look himself. Norway quietly followed, his heart beating madly. They had not expected anything like this to happen.

Before them a fleet of 70 ships had appeared out of the shadows of the smaller islands and skerries. "King Olav" the man that had first noticed the ambush said. "We should turn around, we can still escape them."The rest of the crew of Ormen Lange had gathered on deck, some looking at the enemy and some to their king. "Let the sails fall" Olav commanded loud and clear so it would reach some of the other ships in his fleet.

"My men will not think of fleeing. I have never fled in battle. My life is in God's hands, and never will I flee. Now tie all our ships together and let's face our enemies." His voice was strong and clear and he lifted his bow in the air to mark that they would engage in battle. His men cheered and banged swords, axes and spears against their shields.

Some of the men fetched rope and all the ships in the fleet were tied together so they would not scatter and be overwhelmed. "Make sure that Ormen Lange is in the front" Olav commanded to a man named Ulv. "But my lord" Ulv protested "It will be so much harder to protect if it is to be in the front." Norway backed away recognizing the angry shine that appeared in Olav's eyes as he glared at Ulv.

Olav was calmly drawing an arrow from the quiver on his back and placing it on the string of his bow before he aimed at the man in front of him. "I did not know that I had a coward in my service" Olav said. Ulv swallowed heavily, "Point the bow in a direction where it is needed more my king" Ulv said shakily "What I do, I do for you."

* * *

In front of them the enemy army split into three different groups and banners were raised on one of the ships in each group to identify them. Olav signaled for Norway to join him by the railing where they had the best viewing point. "Tell me Lukas, who is this army right in front of us?"

Norway cast a glance and immediately recognized the first banner. "That is King Svend Tjugeskjegg and the Danish army" he said flatly. Olav snorted arrogantly. "We are not afraid of these weaklings; there is no courage in the Danes. But who is chieftain on the right."

"That is the symbol for King Olof of Sviþjòð and his army" Norway answered. "It would be better for those heathens to stay at home than to face the weapons of Ormen Lange" Olav hissed. "But now tell me who owns the large ship at the portside of the Danes? The one with the bull carving at its bow"

Norway recognized that banner as well as the ship and sighed. "It belongs to Eirik Jarl Håkonsson." Olav's face seemed to fall. "He might feel that he has a good reason to face us" he said more quietly. "It is from those men that we will receive the greatest battle, because they are Norwegians just like us."

* * *

On the ship belonging to Svend Tveskæg, Denmark was nervously shifting the hold on the battleaxe he had brought with him. He was not pleased about the situation or the company he was in. Sweden was standing next to him, silent and glaring. They hadn't talked in a long time, but as their kings had joined forces they were standing together.

Both their kings have had enough of the behavior of Olav Tryggvason and they had agreed it was about time the man was stopped. It turned out that it was not only their people that had seen themselves sick on the Norwegian king. He had been terrorizing his own people and the Norwegian Jarl Eirik had joined in on the battle to bring down the king.

A cold shiver ran down Denmarks back as he heard the battle cries coming from the small fleet belonging to Olav. The man intended to fight even if he was outmanned almost seven to one. The man truly had to be mad to think he could win with such odds.

Denmark barely noticed as Svend commanded the fleet to attack. The men on board had ropes with hooks ready so they could secure their own ship to one of the Norwegian ones. Olav had taken a wise step having his fleet tie each ship to the other, having the smaller ships surround Ormen Lange and protect it. The field was set for a massacre.

* * *

Denmark had a plan and as usual it involved saving Norway. He just hoped that this time the Norwegian would need and accept it. Svend had waited before he sent his own ship to attack the group of Norwegian ships and the men aboard his ship observed as wave after wave of their army attacked. Denmark hated the wait, he hated to watch as a battle was fought before him, and he had no way of joining in.

When they finally made their way to Ormen Lange, it seemed to tower above them. The dragon carving at the bow snarling at them and glinting in the gold it was made from.

The Norwegian Eirik Jarl on their side had already tried to board the other ship but he was forced to retreat and he was bleeding from an arrow wound in his shoulder. The men aboard Ormen was screaming in anger and fighting with feral intensity, sending deadly rain of arrows at their enemies.

The ship tied next to Ormen had a much lower railing and was smaller in size so Denmark saw it as a chance to get into the fight as he climbed aboard the smaller ship. It had almost been cleared already, only a few Norwegians were left to defend it. So Denmark made his way over to Ormen Lange, where he knew Olav Tryggvason and Norway both would be.

* * *

There were barely anyone left to fight by the time Denmark made it aboard. Olav Tryggvason had been backed into a corner and he watched as the last of his men were slaughtered before his eyes. He was still holding his bow but it was broken and his quiver was empty.

Now the army of Danes, Swedes and Norwegians were just waiting for and order, standing ready to attack. They were patiently waiting, for the king had no way of escaping.

Svend had finally gotten aboard Ormen Lange himself and was making his way to the front of the line. Denmark rushed to join him, elbowing and showing in order to make it. His king nodded in acknowledgement to him and they walked up to the cornered king together.

Denmark had to struggle to stay calm when they made it to the front of the line. Olav Tryggvason was not along. By his side was Norway. He was still holding a bloodied sword, ready to strike. His gaze was scanning the enemies, trying to find a way out, but then he noticed Denmark and his gaze stopped roaming.

Svend stepped out in front of Tryggvason to stare at him in contempt. "Take him prisoner and bring him to jarl Eirikson" Svend said. It was meant for Olav as much as it was meant for his men. Then he said a bit quieter so that only he, Denmark and the two cornered Norwegians could hear. "Matthias, if that other is the personification of Norðvegr we will need him alive as well."

That kicked Tryggvason into action. "You will not take me prisoner" he yelled and then he turned to the Norwegian personification. "My soul belongs to God and soon I will be with him in death." Norway turned to look at his king in shock but he never managed to say anything. "You will not take me, and you will not take my country for me" Olav screamed.

Denmark realized something was wrong and was rushed forward to grab the Norwegian personification and get him away from the mad king. But he was too late. Before anyone had a chance to stop him, Olav had grabbed a hold on Norway's cloak and jumped over the railing of the ship to the waters below.

Norway's cry was cut short as the cloak tightened around his neck and he was yanked overboard from the weight of Tryggvason.

Denmark rushed to the railing ready to jump in himself, but all he could see were foaming waves discolored by blood. Norway had been swallowed by the sea and was nowhere to be seen.


	19. Under the surface

**AN:** Thank all of you for the feedback and support! I hope the chapter is to your liking^^

* * *

**Under the surface**

For Norway there was no way telling if he was still sinking or not. It was dark all around, not even the slightest glimpse of light that would indicate the surface or even which direction was up. In the beginning it had been freezing cold, but his skin had gone so numb he could not feel it anymore. He had also felt how the salt water burn as it forced its way into his lungs, filling them once he could not hold his breath any longer.

At first Olav had been the one dragging him under, deeper into the ocean. Unable to undo the fastening of his cloak that Tryggvason had been holding on to, Norway had struggled in vain to make it back up to the surface. Now his clothes were soaked in water and their weight kept him under once Olav had disappeared in the darkness to his own death.

Norway was alone in the darkness now, drifting along the currents and having no energy left to fight it or even move at all. Eventually all the pain faded. He couldn't notice the cold or the burning of the salt water in his lungs. His mind had become a haze and let made his thoughts drift, just like the sea did, letting him remember more pleasant days. Days before kings started fighting among themselves creating chaos and conflict.

* * *

The peaceful daze had to end eventually. When he was finally awoken to reality again it was from the feeling of sand clinging to his fingers and palms and the sound of waves crashing against rocks and the whispers of the wind. He had no idea of where the currents of the sea had taken him and had no idea of how much time he had spent under water.

The first new breath of air was not a nice one. The fresh air had to replace the salt water that had made its ways to his lungs and he spent minutes coughing to get it out. That had already left him exhausted, but the water he had swallowed had to come up as well.

Once he was empty he had no energy left but what was needed to roll to lie on his back in the soft sand. The sky was the dark blue of night and a half moon was shining palely. Staring up at the sky was also a reminder of the past before he had even met his own people. He had been a child small enough to have been seated in the open palm of a troll to watch the night sky above them, wondering what mysteries it kept secret.

"Mose" he whispered quietly into the darkness like if he had been a child again hoping that the old troll could hear him. He had to make his way back to Nidaros. Olav Tryggvason was dead, but he had to find out who would be in charge after him. Two kings and one jarl, all from different kingdoms had been in the enemy army and they would all demand to gain something from the battle at Svolder and if they were in his lands for the discussion, then Nidaros was the best place to go.

Norway let out a relieved sigh once he heard a soft rumble, slowly getting closer. It was the sound of a troll's feet as it got closer to his location and each step made the ground shake. "Mose" he mumbled "thank you. I need to get back home."

The troll came closer and let out a grumble; it still was not very fond of communicating. Norway rolled back on his stomach and tried to make his body obey his request for standing up. Had the troll not been standing there his legs would have given up under him and let him fall back on the ground instead of just leaning on to its leg for support to keep him upright.

Mose was twice the size of a tall man and much stronger than any. He could rip up massive trees by their root, so lifting up one exhausted personification was no great feat for the troll. He lifted up Norway to let him rest on his back on the soft moss that was covering his body. Then he without even a single word started walking away from the beach and in the direction of Nidaros.

* * *

The journey was too long to make in one night. So they hid in a forest when day came, so Mose would not turn to stone as the sun rose over the horizon and to let Norway rest. It was just over midnight the next night when Nidaros came into view. Mose let Norway down from his back so he could walk the last distance, a troll in the city would surely scare the townspeople out of their minds.

Norway was happy to have a house just at the edge of town and he was grateful for the darkness. He did not wish to have any attention drawn to him as he made the way to his home, people would ask questions and he was not ready to answer them.

He could see a flicker of light from one of the windows, showing that Ìsland was still awake even in the late hour. The descendants of Saga were unwelcome in Nidaros after Tryggvason took power for their ability of 'trollsight' and could no longer be caretakers for the child. The boy might be young in appearance, but he had been that for a long time and was able to take care of himself at least for a while, so Norway let him stay alone on the promise that the boy would seek help from one of the Icelandic villagers if he ever needed it.

Exhausted by the short walk from just outside town and to his house, Norway slumped down by the door as soon as he had shut it after entering. His clothes were still just a bit damp from the sea even if it was over a day since he had gotten out of it, and they were coated in grains of sand that sprinkled the floor whenever he made a slightest move.

"Noregur?" the voice was questioning and seconds later Iceland came into view. "Yes, it's me" Norway replied tiredly. The child ran towards him with open arms ready for hug, but stopped once he realized the state of the other and let his arms drop.

"What happened?" Iceland asked, "Why are all your clothes wet and covered in sand?" "I fell off the ship and had to swim ashore" Norway replied flatly, avoiding the gaze of the child. "Noregur" Iceland complained. "I know you went out in a battle and I want to know what happened."

Norway sighed "Just let me find some new clothes to put on first and I'll tell you the story before you go to sleep." Iceland cheered and ran off somewhere in the house. The thought of a story made him all excited and had him forget pretty much anything else. Norway would often turn his adventures into tales to tell to the child and Iceland always loved them.

A child's mind so innocent and so oblivious to the true madness and cruelty of the world and Norway would do whatever he could to keep it that way. Iceland wanted to know what had happened, but telling the story he could always twists some of the facts and leave out what the child did not need to know.

Norway pulled of the wet shoes that left a small puddle on the floor when they finally let go of his feet. He left the cloak and his pants by the door in a bundle; he would take care of them once he had managed to get Iceland to bed. He was on the way towards his own bedroom to find some new clothes to wear, but something standing on the dining room table caught his attention before he got so far.

"Ìsland" he called out and the boy poked his head out from his own bedroom to stare at him wonderingly. "What is this box doing on the table and where did you find it?" Iceland's eyes were simply sparkling. "I found it in one of the old chest and I wondered what it was" the child answered happily. "But I didn't open it, I wanted to ask you when you came back home."

Norway waived for Iceland to come closer and then lifted up the small box. He opened it and unfolded the dark blue cloth that was wrapping the treasure inside it. He stared at the object with a small smile at his lips before he showed the item to the boy.

"It's so pretty" Iceland gasped and his eyes were wide as dinner plates as he stared at the item. "Where did you get it?" Norway put the box back on the table and turned back to the child. "It was a gift" he answered simply. "Now run to bed and I'll be there in a minute to tell you the story about 'the battle of Svolder'"

Iceland squiled happily at the dramatic voice Norway used to pronounce the name of the story he was about to tell and then ran back towards his bedroom.

* * *

Iceland was already tucked in under the furs when Norway came after having found a dry shirt and some pants. Once Iceland noticed him, he shuffled to the side of the bed to leave room for the Norwegian to take a seat beside him. Norway took one deep breath once he was seated comfortably, thinking over one last time how to formulate the battle to a story.

"Once upon a time in a great kingdom there was a mighty king ruling the land by the name of Olav Tryggvason." He started and Iceland snuggled up to his side and hid partially under blankets by the mention of the former king. Norway put a protecting arm around the child to comfort him before he continued the story.

"Olav was known among his friends for being powerful and strong and they had a lot of respect for him. But Olav wanted power and he had a tendency to get very angry when people went up against him. So the people that were not friends with Olav were afraid of him and did not dare to spite him in any way and lived in fear."

"One day a lot of them had gotten enough of the way Olav was treating them. The people from his own kingdom as well as the kings and people of two others gathered an army to put a stop of his behavior and end his rule." Iceland gasped from under the furs and clutched on to Norway's shirt. "What happened then?" he asked, voice muffled by the furs.

"The army gathered by the two kings and one of the jarl from his own country ambushed the king when he only had a few of his ships with him. He was proud and strong and refused to accept that he was defeated even when he was the last man standing. When he was surrounded by enemies he chose to jump in the sea and hide there from his enemies, because no one would be able to get him among the waves. That way he made sure that it was none of his enemies that defeated him and he was in control until the very end."

Iceland poked his head out from the furs to stare at Norway. "What happened to you then?" he asked knowing that Norway had been a part of the battle as well. "I fell" Norway answered flatly. Iceland had been scared enough of Tryggvason already and did not need to know more. "But if you lost the king, didn't you also lose the battle? Iceland asked.

Norway ruffled Iceland's white blonde hair and looked at those wide curious eyes before he smiled reassuringly. "Both yes and no[1]. Olav had been so cruel to a lot of his people that most of them are happy that one of their own jarls stood up against him and stopped him. "So you are okay then?" the child asked and then yawned.

"Yes I am" Norway replied and kissed the top of Iceland's head goodnight. "That is good" Iceland whispered tiredly "I didn't like Olav very much, he was mean to me and to you." The child let go of Norway's shirt and snuggled back down in the furs. It didn't take a long while before he was breathing steadily in sleep.

Norway didn't move from his spot on the bed for a long time. He was just listening to the breaths of the child taking comfort in them. He was going to be alright. Someone would be king after Tryggvason and it was most likely one of the victors of the battle. Who he didn't know and at the moment he didn't care. None of them could possibly be worse than Olav had been.

* * *

Denmark was wondering how his king would react if he smashed his face down on the table. He was just so sick of the discussions that had been going on since the day the fleet had arrived at Nidaros. He hadn't even wanted to come to the town in the first place, but he had been forced to by Svend and now he really wished to smash his head against the table until unconsciousness took him.

He had gotten strict orders from his king not to look for the Norwegian personification lost at sea. He had said there was no way of finding anyone once they had gone under and ordered the fleet to sail north to Nidaros where they had been for three days now.

Denmark had wanted to scream as they sailed away, leaving the seas of Svolder behind. Tryggvasons flagship, Ormen Lange had been too badly damaged in the battle and was left behind. The pride and gem of the Norwegian fleet had been defeated. The golden dragon's head at the ship's bow looked pale and faded. Denmark felt as if the dragon was giving him an accusing stare as they had sailed away.

He had blocked out the conversation between king Svend and Jarl Eirik a long time ago. King Olof and the Swedes had left a day ago when it was settled which portion of land they would get from Tryggvason's kingdom. Denmark was glad to see them leave. Sweden had only glared at him and said he was idiotic for making a fuss over the Norwegian personification's disappearance, and Denmark was still wondering how he had managed to keep himself from separating the Swedes body from his head to shut him up.

Svend and Eirik jarl had only left to discuss the last details of how their rule together would be. Eirik was only a jarl and Svend had been the one with most forces in the battle and he had been the one in direct conflict with Olav Tryggvason. It was decided that Eirik and his brother would be ruling Norðvegr in Svends place and he would be their overking like his father Harald Blåtann had been to Harald Gråfell years before. In addition Svend gained the area of Viken[2] to be a part of his kingdom.

Svend had planned to have his fleet leave for his own land in two days or so. But Denmark was not planning on going with him, for he had a Norwegian to find. He knew that Norway could not die by drowning. He might have lost some land and a Dane was technically responsible for the rule of his land, but it would be nowhere enough to actually kill him.

So Norway were alive somewhere and Denmark was dead set on finding him, if he so had to walk along the entire Norwegian coastline to do so. His king was in control of the Norwegian land, so why could not he have Norway by his side all safe and sound?

* * *

Denmark was sulking and had turned to the mead for comfort. He was deeply absorbed in his own thoughts when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to look at the person, but had to blink a few times before he could get the other in a relatively good focus.

"What is it?" he asked, just a little too sharply. The newly arrived male was biting his lower lip nervously. "The house you asked me to keep an eye on…" he started nervously, "the one at the edge of town where the young boy lives."

Denmark narrowed his eyes at the nervous male. He had decided the keep watch on Norway's house when he came to Nidaros. He wanted to make sure that Ìsland would be safe until Norway was back. He knew how much the Norwegian adored the young boy.

"What of the house?" Denmark snapped and the male anxiously stepped back. "A few hours ago I thought I saw a shadow moving towards the house. It was dark and I thought my eyes betrayed me so I thought nothing more of it. But just now I saw something move in the window and it was not the shape of a young child" the man stuttered out.

"And you did not come to me the first time you saw something?!" Denmark rushed up from his chair and attempted to grab on to the battleaxe leaned up against the wall in the same motion. But two full pitchers of mead in one evening does nothing good for a person's coordination and he fell flat on his face before he even took two steps.

The king and the jarl looked up from their places in the opposite side of the room and gaze him a curious glance as he shuffled back to his feet. Denmark ignored them and hurried out the door, determined to make sure that Iceland was alright.

* * *

In his rush, he almost broke down the door when he finally made it to Norway's house. It slammed against the wall and bounced back, creaking on its hinges. Denmark held his breath as complete quiet followed. He was so sure that something terrible had happened. That bang from the door should have had sleeping children from all the neighboring houses waking up in terror but there was nothing.

"You are very lucky you know" a quiet and calm voice said from somewhere in the darkness. "Lucky that Ìsland is a heavy sleeper and that I didn't accidentally murder you in self defense as you practically break into my house in the middle of night."

Denmark's battleaxe clattered to the floor. He could hardly believe his own ears and eyes as he heard the familiar voice and saw Norway himself stepping out of the shadow and into the pale moonlight streaming in the open front door.

Denmark didn't hesitate a moment longer before he ran forward to embrace the other male. Norway for once didn't fight back and Denmark used the chance to inhale the other's scent, enjoying every indicator that he was not a trick of his mind. But the smell of sea was too real, he did not disappear in a puff of smoke between his arms and he could even feel soft strands of hair tickle him under the chin from where he was leaning his head on top of the other's.

"I had no idea you would come here" Denmark whispered softly. "I was going to look for you." "I know you were" Norway whispered back. His voice was slightly raspy, something Denmark noticed. He let Norway out of the embrace and stepped back to make a closer inspection. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in both his voice and face.

Norway nodded. "I'm just tired" he said. "But what is wrong with you voice then?" Denmark asked, but then he noticed what it was. The light from the moon, the Norwegians pale skin was almost shining, but across his throat, partially hidden by his shirt was a dark bruise.

Denmark kept his touch as light as possible as he drew a finger over the dark mark, blinking concerned as Norway flinched slightly from the touch. "That's from when Tryggvason pulled you overboard isn't it?" Denmark asked and Norway nodded slowly.

"If he wasn't dead I would have murdered him myself" he growled lowly. Norway pushed the Danes hand away and walked over the table to take a seat in one of the chairs. "The tyranny of Tryggvason is over now" Norway said flatly and with a blank face. "That mark will disappear soon enough; he no longer had a hold of any of us."

"Your jarl Eirik is the one to rule you land now" Denmark said and he felt lighter at heart knowing that Norway was right about Tryggvason. "But Svend will act as his overking." Norway looked at the Dane still standing by the door. "My people have a strong identity. They know who they are, ruled by Norwegian king or by a Danish one."

Denmark could not help but smile. "So you are not angry?" Norway shook his head. "No" he stated simply. "Well I guess your people will have Svend kicked out when they get sick of him then" Denmark chuckled nervously. "But why are you not angry" he asked, "you hated the idea when Harald Gormson was the same."

Norway sighed. "I guess I have had a lot of time to think the last few days after the battle. I have come to realize that you might be right." Denmark was feverishly trying to understand what Norway was aiming at, but yet again the mead he had drank earlier was working against him, making his mind slow.

Norway seemed to realize the problem and took it upon himself to continue. "We are more like the humans than what I would like to admit. I refused to accept it before, but when Tryggvason threatened to have Ìsland killed I knew I could not refuse it any longer. We are so close to the humans, and what makes the humans what they are, are their emotions. I still think they could be a hinder for us being personified countries and maybe even dangerous, but they can't be hidden away"

Denmark simply grinned and then he stepped closer to the Norwegian. "So tell me then Norge… What are you feeling?" A flicker of something was barely visible in Norway's eyes bit it was to quickly gone for Denmark to identify it.

"I feel safe and I feel home" Norway said before he turned away, not wishing to look the Dane in the eyes. Denmark was about to ask again not satisfied with the short and imprecise answer, but then something on the table caught his attention. A small box delicately decorated and opened to reveal something that glimpsed, even in the dim room.

"What is this Norge?" he asked in surprise and picked up the item that had been displayed in the box. It was a small golden hairpin in the shape of a cross.

"I didn't think you kept this" Denmark exclaimed quietly as he stared at the cross with a smile on his lips. "Of course I kept it" Norway snapped back defensively, but his voice broke mid sentence and the statement didn't sound as angrily as it was first intended and it made Denmark grin happily.

"When I gave it to you, you said you didn't want it as it was a symbol on some foreign religion" Denmark said cheerily, "but you still kept it." "What about it" Norway snapped suspiciously. "You are supposed to be a Christian now, and that means it symbolizes your religion now" Denmark laughed.

"It is a cross stolen from a monastery we burned down after we killed all of the priests" Norway said flatly. Denmark's smile never haltered. "That makes it even better. It was never really our god. Think if you had worn this under the rule of Tryggvason. He would have been walking around happily thinking you had accepted his religion when in reality it basically symbolizes everything he was against considering the way you got it."

Norway laughed.

A soft a really silent laughter, but a laughter anyhow and it made Denmark feel all warm hearing it. He took one more glance at the cross before he knelt down in front of Norway. He was just a bit shorter that way and he could stare into those dark blue eyes, now carrying a hint of surprise and wonder.

He held up the cross, brushed a few strands of blond hair to the side before he pinned the clip in it. He admired his work for a few seconds in silence before he talked again. "It looks good on you" he said quietly and then rose up again, leaving the Norwegian frozen in place on his chair, laughter already died.

"You are probably exhausted Norge" he said. "I guess I should go and let you rest." Denmark was about the head for the door when he heard the chair scrape against the floor.

"Wait, Denmark!" Norway sounded almost panicking and Denmark turned back again in surprise. Norway was standing just centimeters from him, staring up at him. Dark blue eyes were staring one place one second and then moving on to somewhere else, like nowhere was comfortable to keep his gaze for long.

Denmark was staring back, not knowing what was going through the other's mind, but before he knew it he felt a soft pair of lips pressed to his own. They were only lingering for a few seconds, leaving behind a faint hint of sea salt, but it was enough to make to sets of hearts beat like crazy.

Norway burrowed his face in the Dane's broad chest. "Please don't leave yet" he whispered.

* * *

[1] I think most sources will claim that the victor from the battle of Svolder would be the Danes and Svend Tveskæg. But Heimskringla (written by the Icelandic Snorre Sturlason about two centuries later) says that: 'there was one winner and one loser at the battle and both of them were Norwegians. I use Norway's goodnight story to explain why Iceland would think the Norwegians won the battle and maybe he told the story to Snorre Sturlason. Olav Tryggvasons chapter in that saga is very popular in Norway and Iceland, but not in Denmark and Sweden. This is because Tryggvason is said to have used quite a few colorful insults for their people (I had some rough translations of them in last chapter) and because Snorre made them seem like a bunch of pathetic weaklings.

[2] Viken would be the area around where Oslo and Oslofjorden is today.


	20. Massacre 1002 - 1013

**Massacre 1002 - 1013**

The English king Æthelred was pacing back and forth around his throne room mumbling for himself, wondering what to do. He and his people had been terrorized by the Norsemen for far too long and the raids lately had been getting worse than ever before.

He had gotten rid of the Norwegians years back when he made a deal with Olav Tryggvason of Norðvegr. For a large sum of money the man had promised not to return to England in hostility with his people. But the Danes had made no such deal and they kept on coming, year after year. Æthelred had paid them great amounts of money to stop, but the peace was only temporary and it never took long before they came back for a new raid.

And it was not only the raids that bothered him. Some of the Vikings had even settled down in his land and started farming. Æthelred wasn't fond of them at all and neither did he like their strange customs and behavior[1]. In addition they were a constant reminder of the horror that ensued when their people came for another raid on the English shores.

He had to figure out a way to prove to his people that he was not weak. He had to stand up against these people in some way. But there was no way of stopping the Vikings when they came for a raid. They were always to strong in numbers and fierce fighters and his men was no match to the northerners.

Æthelred finally gave up pacing in favor of walking over to the window where he had an overview of the village. He looked down at the people rushing about, minding their own business. That's when he realized what he could do. The Norsemen that had settled down had taken up farming. They had turned a more peaceful leaf and surely would not be able to defend themselves in the same way a horde of attacking Vikings could do.

He smiled for himself as a plan formed within his mind. He would rid England of every single Dane or other Norseman and their families. He only had to discuss the plans with his advisors and then he would order the death of every Dane in England. That would teach the rest of them a lesson or two that the rest of them would no longer be allowed to mess with Æthelred, king of England[2].

* * *

Norway was startled awake in the middle of night. The house was quiet and there were no sounds from outside the building either, but still his senses told him that something was not right. He didn't even try to fall back to sleep, he already knew that it would be impossible. He pushed the furs aside to get out of bed without a second thought, but almost regretted it once he felt the bite of the cold. It was hours since the fires that kept the house warm had died and the November temperatures outside tried it's best to take a hold inside the house as well.

He just hated it when he knew something had happened but was unable to tell exactly what it was. Whenever something was wrong within his own borders he usually had an idea of what it was. There was some instinct allowing him to know. Now there was only one chance to find out what was the reason for the pit in his stomach. Trollsight… he could use it to catch a glimpse of either the future, past or present. There was no telling which one it would be, but it was his only chance.

It was a simple spell. Everything needed to make it work was the rights words and enough concentration. Saga and her descendants had been blessed with the gift of trollsight, but now a day's fewer and fewer people in his lands possessed and used the ability. The Christian belief had little room for the praxis of the old ways and as fewer people held on to the beliefs it became harder for Norway to use the ancient form of magic.

It was harder but not at all impossible. He took one deep breath before he closed his eyes muttering the words that would hopefully allow him see what was far out of his reach.

At first it was only darkness and silence, but then there was screaming. Barely audible at first but growing in strength and one voice was joined by more. Then the sight started working as well, becoming sharper and turning blurred colors into real landforms and structures. It was first showing a field drenched in blood, then a church on fire and then a bloodbath.

A group of soldiers armed to their teeth were slaughtering a group of farmers. Before death took them, they screamed in terror and agony. The soldiers ignored them and kept throwing slashes at the defenseless people. Even when the screams died and they had stopped moving the soldiers kept on going, leaving the murdered persons almost unrecognizable from all the damage they had taken.

The soldiers were spattered in blood and their swords were dripping, drenching the earth beneath them. Then they started on the dirty work of hauling the bodies to a recently dug grave and showed them in it without ceremony. As they started shoveling lose soil over the bodies soft rain began to fall and washed away the trail of blood from the grave and to the site of slaughter. Soon there would be no trace left of what had happened. The people would have disappeared and their families would not know where their loved ones had ended up in a shallow, unmarked mass grave somewhere.

Then the sight changed. Instead of a bloody field there was a large room. By one of the walls there was a throne, and before it was a man down on his hands and knees, screaming in agony. Beside him was a crown. But what really caught Norway's attention was the man walking up to the man, kneeling down beside him to put a comforting hand on the king's shoulder.

People's faces were always hard to make out using trollsight, but this man's features were clear as he looked up to stare at Norway as if he was actually in the room. Norway felt his heart speed up as he looked back at the face framed by wild blonde hair. His expression was not one that was normally seen on him. Instead of a smiling face there was one filled with pain and hurt.

Norway could not bear to look at it anymore. He forced his eyes open and the real world came tumbling back. He was on the ground and figured he must have fallen over at some point during the vision. His breath was quick and came out in small puffs of white fog from the cold in the house and his skin was covered in goose bumps.

Soft padding over the floor made him aware of another presence in the room. "What is going on?" the tired voice belonging to Iceland mumbled. Norway picked himself up from the floor and walked over to the child to embrace him.

"I have to travel south" Norway said softly and let go of the child again. "I don't know how long I'll be away, but I know you can take care of yourself until I'm back." Iceland nodded in understanding and stood up straighter. He wanted to prove that he was grown up enough to take responsibility. There was no use in protesting anyways, Norway would not be swayed over by pleas.

Norway ruffled the child's hair and began searching the room for the items he would need for the journey. Trollsight could never be trusted to show the reality as it truly was, but one thing was clear. Something was wrong in Denmark or with Denmark and Norway was determined to find out what it was.

* * *

Arriving in Denmark's village, Norway could not help but notice that the atmosphere all around him was gloomy and the people walking about the street were quiet and with sad expressions upon their faces. Barely a single one of them offered Norway a greeting as he walked past, most of them looked down and moved on.

Figuring that Denmark was most likely with his king, he walked over to the large house located in the middle of the town where he knew the king Svend Tjugeskjegg kept his house.

There were armed guards by the door, blocking the way in as Norway approached. "What is your business here?" one of them asked sharply. "The king does not wish to see any visitors at the moment." That only made Norway's suspect even further that something had already happened that had upset an entire people. "I was hoping to see Matthias actually" Norway said calmly.

"I can check if he has the time to see you" the guard said. "What name should I give him?" "Just tell him Lukas is here to speak to him" Norway said. "He knows who I am." The guard nodded and disappeared into the house.

He returned a few minutes later and held the door open in order to allow Norway to enter. "You can find him in the first room on the right" the guard said. Norway mumbled thanks as he walked past the guard and into the dim hallway.

The room he entered was appeared just as gloomy as the rest of the village had been. Denmark was standing in the middle and turned once he heard the door opened. He looked tired at first, but his face lit up once the Norwegian stepped into view. "Norge" he said brightly. But Norway could notice the sad undertone the other had tried to hide. "I didn't expect you to just show up out of the blue."

"I came to find out what is going on here" Norway stated simply and crossed his arms. The Dane's smile faltered for only a second or two before he managed to get it back. "Are you sure you're not just incapable of staying away from my dashing good looks and charming sense of humor?" he asked teasingly.

Norway glared at him, crushing all hints of humor in the situation. "Do not play that game with me right now Danmark" he snapped. "I know something bad happened and I want to know what. You have seen me on my worse days. You've helped me through them; I want to be able to do the same for you so don't shut me out."

Denmark's smile fell. There was no chance of fooling the Norwegian. "How can you even know" Denmark asked and the false joy in his voice was replaced by sadness. "The news just reached us and as far as I know none of us have sent word your way."

Norway softened his expression, he had already gotten through and there was no reason to make the situation difficult for the other. He walked closer to the Dane and took his hand to give it a comforting squeeze and looked up at sad blue eyes. "I like to think that we are connected" he said. "Not just as two nations under the rule of the same king but as human beings. If you are in pain, then so am I. Please just tell me what happened." Norway was practically begging.

Denmark sighed. "It's my people settled in England" he said uncharacteristically quiet. "The English murdered them." Norway got flashes from the earlier visions he had, the bloodbath and people being dumped in mass graves. "That wasn't just murder" Norway said determined.

"No it wasn't" Denmark said sharply and his eyes were shining with anger now. "It was a massacre. Nobody was even given a chance to defend themselves, men, women, and children. It didn't matter to the English who they killed."

"There's more isn't it?" Norway asked and Denmark looked at him in wonder a second before he nodded.

"Svend's sister was among the murdered" Denmark said. "He is not handling it well at all. I think I have lost count of how many chairs he has broken by sending them flying at the wall in anger." At the last statement he laughed bitterly.

"So what do you intend to do?" Norway asked still staring up at the Dane to look as all expressions of sadness was replaced by anger and determination. "I want to make those bastards pay for what they did to us!" he snarled.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Norway asked firmly. "I am sure that Svend wants revenge just as much as you do. Let us find a crew that will join us on the journey there." "Us, Norge?" Denmark said questioningly. "This battle will not have anything to do with your people, are you sure you want to join?"

Norway smacked him over the head. Not hard enough to cause any damage, but enough to make a point. "Don't be stupid" he snapped, but spoke calmer as he continued. "Have you not been listening to a single word I said? I want to help you and considering that the entire Norwegian fleet is at your king's disposition should he ever need it, why should I not be available to join you? And besides, I would just love to give the English hell; it has been far too long since I could do that."

Denmark grinned, the old mischievous way that only meant trouble was coming. He moved his hands to Norway's face and kissed him quickly on the forehead. "I guess we're going to England then" he said now cheerily again. Norway could not do anything but to smile warmly at the idiot in front of him.

* * *

The English were as good as defenseless when the attack came. Over two hundred years since the first attack on Lindisfarne and they still had not figured out a way to stop the Vikings from butchering and burning once they landed on shore. And this time the raiders were wilder than ever. They were lead by a vengeful Svend Tjugeskjegg and his men, all of them wished to show the people of England what would happen if they massacred Danes and thought they could get away with it.

Norway had left the rest of the group that was still busy on their assault on the small village they had landed by. He was running through the forest, chasing a small creature that attempted to escape from the screaming that was becoming fainter as they moved away from the battle. But his short feet were no match for the Norwegian in pursuit.

England screamed in terror as his cloak tightened around his neck and his flight came to an abrupt stop as his cloak was caught in something. He turned back to see it pinned to the ground by a long sword. He didn't have time to even reach for the clasp that kept it fastened before the Viking had gotten a hold of his tunic instead and that way kept him from escaping.

"Well, well, well" the Norwegian said venomously and England whimpered at the voice. It was one of the voices of his nightmares and he did not dare to look up and meet the eyes he knew came along with the voice. "It would seem I have caught a coward" the Norwegian said. "But this time it is not me you should fear." Norway grabbed the child's chin and forced him to look him in the eyes. "It was not my people that were murdered in your massacre."

England wished he could disappear in the ground below him. He felt as though the Norwegians eyes were burning a hole right through him. "You should know that Denmark is here with me" the Norwegian continued coldly. "And I believe that he would just love to have a little chat with you."

England screamed and struggled. But there was no escape as he was being hauled back towards the village and the rest of the Vikings.

* * *

England recognized the laughter as soon as he heard it. It was Denmark. He fought against the Norwegians grip again, but it was no use. "So you found the little bastard called England huh?" the Dane said loudly and England shivered in terror. "Guess you can say that" the Norwegian answered calmly.

England fell to as the Norwegian pushed him the back. He landed in a pit of mud and sharp rocks sliced open one of his palms. He could just feel the shadow falling from the Vikings and he did not dare to look up and focused on the blood dripping between his fingers instead.

He could not avoid them for long. The Dane had knelt down beside him and now he was the one forcing him to look up. Denmark's bright blue eyes were sparkling as if he was enjoying the moment. His face, hair and clothing were covered in slowly drying droplets of blood and none of it appeared to belong to him.

"So England" he said sharply. "Tell me. Who was the one ordering the massacre of my people?" England whimpered again and now he was unable to keep the tears back any longer. "It was the king Æthelred[3]" he cried and the tears began to stream down his cheeks. He knew well enough that lying would not work on the two Vikings.

"God boy" Denmark laughed. "I will unite you with your king again soon enough. He just has to pay us a bit of money first. And when we get the sum we want, we will stop the attack and leave just like we have done before."

Norway had leaned down beside him as well and England could feel soft breath just by his ear and it made his skin crawl. "And when you think that you are safe" the Norwegian whispered "we will strike again. And we will come back, time and time again until you can't stand it any longer and we feel you have paid the price for what you did to us[4]."

* * *

Norway had not lied. The Danish Vikings returned, year after year leaving a number of English villages reduced to blood and ashes. They kept on murdering until the king Æthelred agreed to the sums they demanded in order for them to leave. Each time they promised to not return, but England knew the peace after a raid would never last for long.

Ten years passed in the same fashion. They came, they killed, they got paid and then they would leave for a time before they came back. But the eleventh year appeared different than the others. Words spread. The fleet approaching English shores was larger than any other Viking raid had been before.

A messenger had rushed to the king. "It is not just the Danes!" he had managed to gasp before he almost collapsed on the floor from exhaustion. The entire court had gone silent and the king had risen from his throne. "Speak up man" he had ordered shakily and the messenger gasped for air before he was able to talk again.

"The fleet heading this way… It is not just Svend Forkbeard and the Danes. This time the Norwegian fleet is with him. They are not here to raid our land for riches and to murder our people. They are here to take over."

The ensuing silence was enough to drive a person mad. Æthelred did not know what to do. He didn't even know how to deal with the Danes alone and now the Norwegians had joined in on the fight. He turned to his counsel, but they were all staring back at him and none of them made a move to speak this time. There was not a single word of advice to be heard. Æthelred was without guidance.

* * *

After ten years Svend had called for the help of the Norwegian fleet, to finally take his revenge for the death of his sister that had died from the order of Æthelred of England. Jarl Eirik of Norway had not hesitated even an instant before he send out the order to gather the ships and sail to the aid of the Danes.

Now land was fast approaching and at the bow of the kings ship stood two personifications waiting patiently to play their part in the battle that would be ahead. Neither of them had a single doubt in their minds that would walk out of it all, victorious and with the English throne as his price[5].

The crew aboard the ship had gotten used to seeing the two of them just spending time at the bow of the ship, just staring out over the ocean, waiting to reach the destination. To them they were just two close friends one in direct service of the Danish king Svend and one under the Norwegian Jarl Eirik.

They were more than that but only the two of them knew it. Together like this, both as human beings and as two nations under a common king. They were connected and as longs as things were like that, nothing would be able to stop them. Now England would find out just how powerful the two of them were together.

The ship's crew only saw two friends. What they never saw was the two hands joined together under the heavy woolen cloaks worm by the owners. The intertwined fingers were all the two of them needed to know that they would go through whatever happened next together.

* * *

**AN:** … What to say? I really hope I am not messing this up and I will give England some fighting lessons before we meet him again.

* * *

[1] The English are said to have found it strange how important the Vikings found cleanliness. The Vikings combed their hair and beard every day and bathed once a week.

[2] Æthelred ordered the death of every Dane in England on the 13. Of November 1002 and it is called the 'St. Brice's day massacre' and is named after St. Brice who's feast day is on the 13. Of November

[3] Æthelred the Unready is what the English king was called. In Norwegian he is called 'Æthelred den rådville' and it basically can mean something like 'ill advised' and he must have received some really bad advise if he thought it was a good idea to massacre the Danes thinking it would stop the number of Viking raids launched at England during this time.

[4] The English paid enormous sums of money to stop the Vikings from raiding. It is called Danegeld and was tribute money paid to make them leave, but it did not really have the desired effect. The Viking kept coming back and the English would have to pay again to make them leave and so the dance kept going.

[5] Svend Forkbeard is said to be the most important of all the Danish Viking kings. He was king over Denmark, at times over Norway and of England as Æthelred fled to exile in Normandy.


	21. Martyr and saint 1027 - 1030

**AN:** … The Viking Age is nearing its end, with about two or three chapters after this one. That's going to be strange… I never thought I would make it this far, so I never planned beyond the Viking age… Guess I should go do that now, for I am not going to stop!

Once again I have taken a lot of information from Heimskringla.

To GAL39 (If you're reading this): I respect that people have different opinions, so don't be sorry for stating yours :) You should know that 'The Battle of Stamford Bridge' will definitely be a part of this story, I have actually been planning it for weeks ;P just have to write it…

* * *

**Martyr and saint 1027 - 1030**

It was well after midnight and all the nobles had gathered in Norway's house at the edge of town. They had met in secret from the king and not a single smile was in sight. One of the elder nobles had taken control over the meeting. His hair was heavily stained with gray and years of worry had made their mark by putting deep wrinkles on his forehead. His voice was quiet but still held plenty of power. "I am telling you that I do not know a single man that really wants Olav Haraldsson as king."

"Surely not everyone can hate him" one of the younger ones named Kalv put in carefully. "He did after all bring rule to the land when Svend died and we were left without a king." The elder snorted loudly and glared at him. "It wasn't exactly hard for Olav to take over the rule. There was nobody else, since Tjugeskjegg's boy Knut didn't take over after his father."

"Knut was too busy trying to keep his rule over England." Norway commented dryly. "Æthelred tried to take over again and it took Knut two years to gain order. There was no way he could take control here as well."

The elder noble slammed a fist down in the table. "Do not take me wrong" he said irritably. "I am grateful that Olav took control and brought order with him, people need a leader. I have no problem with him being a Christian and wanting to spread the religion around the land again, but the methods he uses are just ridiculous, and the same are the laws he keep making."

"Tryggvason wasn't exactly any better when he spread Christianity" Norway murmured bitterly, clearly remembering every second he had to spend with the man. "Tryggvason may not have been a very good man, but his laws were not as insane as the ones Olav Haraldsson has made up. Under his laws my wife is sentenced to die!" The old noble seemed to lose his composure at that point.

The rest of the group stared at him in shock. "That cannot be true" one of them named Tore said in disbelief. "What are the charges on her?"

"Witchcraft" the old noble answered. Had the rest of the nobles not been shocked before, they certainly were now. "She is to be flayed in public for her sins." "You cannot mean that?" Tore asked, but he was quickly interrupted by another named Torstein. "Yes he can. This will not be the first female he wanted flayed for sorcery. And he wants everybody to be judged equally. Farmer or noble, the law is the same for everyone."

And angry argument immediately broke out between the nobles. An argument of whether or not the woman could be innocent or not and one of them complained about his own wife having been accused of witchcraft years before and meeting the same fate as this wife was sentenced to.

Norway was silently listening to the argument. The nobles were angry. Olav 'Digre' Haraldsson was a harsh ruler and he was spreading Christianity in a way that could have been directly inspired by Tryggvason years before. Their goal had been to get a Christian population by any means necessary. If murders and threats were necessary then so he would turn to it without hesitation.

Norway had never presented himself to the king as a personification. He was not willing to risk being directly in the service of another mad king and had had enough of religious fanatics for a long time. He pretended to be a mere noble instead and spent time with the other nobles instead. They were important for the rule of the land as well and he felt a need to be a part of that, since he didn't want to work with the king.

"You know what?!" Tore snarled in frustration and anger. "Things were actually better under the rule of Tjugeskjegg. He didn't take our properties from us and he didn't order any of our wives to be innocently flayed for sorcery."

"What are you trying to say here?" one of the younger nobles asked. "That if the Danes were to come back and claim back the throne that you would gladly accept it?" A storm of words followed.

"Not at all" Tore protested. "I would not gladly accept to have somebody that is not Norwegian in charge. But right now there is no man here in the land with enough power and influence to take the rule from Olav. Svend's son Knut has all that. I just want to live my life and not having to worry about what kind of insanity Olav will come up with next."

* * *

The nobles had no more to say and the discussion died down in intensity and became a quiet murmur between the men. One after one they had gone home and Norway was finally left alone. He was not planning on going to bed just yet; he had one last piece of business to finish first.

The situation with the nobles was becoming unstable. Many more people, both with and without influence was tired of Olav's rule and of living in fear. But they had no way of escaping it. But Tore had spoken wisely when he mentioned Svend Tjugeskjegg's son.

Knut Svendsson had power and he now went under the name of Knut den store[1]. He had been the younger brother of Harald Svendsson who had become king of Denmark after his father died. So Knut had first, only been king over England after he had defeated the army of Æthelred who had tried to get his throne back after Svend's death. Knut had won and when his older brother Harald died he was appointed to be the king of Denmark, ending up with being the king of two lands.

Norway knew that the young king had ambition to rule over as much land as his father had done before him. In order to do that he would have to become king of Norðvegr as well and now his rule in Denmark and England was stable. Knut would finally have the chance to come north as well.

Norway could not help but feel guilty as he placed paper, ink and a quill on the table. The note he wrote was short, but it contained all the information necessary and he addressed it to Denmark. 'The king is without the support of his nobles. Offer them freedom and a peaceful rule and they will be yours to command. Lukas.' Norway watched as the ink slowly dried, considering again whether or not he was making the right decision.

When Denmark read the letter, he was sure to advise his king that Norðvegr would be his and then they would bring an invasion force north soon enough. His people would yet again be under Danish rule. With Olav terrorizing the land, it would probably be better for all if he was robbed of his throne.

* * *

When the Danish army arrived with Knut den store in the lead, it became all too clear just how unpopular Olav Digre had become over the years he had been king. Knut had offered the nobles gold and silver for their support and he only needed a small invasion force to force Olav to escape the country. The Norwegian king had nothing to stand up with against the Danes and had to leave them in charge without battle[2].

But only two years later did Olav see his chance to come back. Håkon Eiriksson, the man serving as King Knut's jarl had died and it left the kingdom temporary without rule as the Danish king did not have his seat in Norðvegr. With 3500 men he marched through the land of the Sveas and in the direction of Nidaros.

An army cannot march anywhere without people finding out about it. The Norwegians would be prepared for Olav when he returned. They had gathered a massive army and marched to stop him.

* * *

Olavs army made camp for the night at a small farm on Stiklestad. Norway, the nobles and the army of farmers had found out where he was and was marching in their direction. When they set up their own camp they could barely glimpse the red shine from torches in the distance.

Norway was considered to be one of the leaders for the upcoming battle. He might have betrayed his king by telling the Danes he was without support, but he was still on side with his people and that was proven by the massive army they had gathered. Some of the nobles from their secret meeting, Kalv, Tore and Torstein were alongside him. They and some others had gathered on a hill top to get a look at the enemy army from a safe distance.

"We could have fought the battle tonight if we so wished" Tore said eagerly and his eyes reflected the red light of the flames from the other camp. "We could have but it would not have been wise" Norway remarked calmly.

"We are sure to win" one of the other men commented. "From what I can tell we have at least three times his number in our army. There should be no way for him to defeat us on our own ground." Norway cast a few glances between the two camps and wondered if Olav knew that the odds were not at all in his favor for the estimation seemed correct.

"I should take a horse to their camp and ask if there is any way he would give up this battle without bloodshed" Norway said it thinking out loud. A few of the other men gave him a raised eyebrow. "Do you really think he will back down after the journey he had to make to come here?" one of the men asked dryly. "You do know the man thinks he is on a mission from God? He still thinks he can beat us even now that we have 14000 men against his 3500."

Norway nodded but didn't back down. "If he wishes to fight, then so be it. I just wish to have a word with him. If he and his people have any honor at all they will allow me to see him and not murder me on the spot." "You just make sure you come up with some ridiculous terms for our surrender" one of the other men chuckled. Kalv was the only noble to keep quiet at the comment. He had once considered himself to be a friend of the Olav and was the one least eager for battle.

The rest of the group joined in on the laughter, but they let Norway leave. He wanted to have a last conversation with the man before their forces would clash together come morning. He was not entirely sure of why he felt it so necessary to have a final word with the man, but he also did not see any harm in it either, the man was supposed to have been his king.

* * *

Upon entering the enemy camp he was searched for weapons before he was led to the king's tent by two heavily armed guards. They never let him out of sight as the king's servant entered the tent to inform the king of his visitor.

"Why did you wake me?" the tired voice belonging to Olav mumbled tiredly. "I was dreaming so well." "Dreaming my lord?" the servant asked nervously. "How can you even be sleeping at a time like this, with the farmer army so close by us? But I have a reason; there is a messenger here to see you."

A few seconds later the flap of the tent was pulled aside and Norway was allowed access. The king was dressed simply and pulled a cloak tighter around his body as he had just been stirred from his sleep. "What a coincidence it is that you are the one playing the role as an errand boy" the king said as he laid eyes upon Norway.

"Why is that?" Norway asked calmly, he avoided using the title of king on the man. "I am just as fit to talk to you on behalf of the rest of the nobles as any other man would have been." "Yes indeed you are" Olav said and he acted extremely relaxed something Norway found extremely curious.

"You are no mere messenger and nor are you a simple noble" Olav said, and Norway looked at him suspiciously. He had come to have a last conversation with the man that had supposed to be his king for several years, hoping it would make him feel better about betraying him if Olav was spewing out crazy religious babble. But now already before the conversation was properly started it had taken an unexpected turn.

The man took Norway's silence as a hint to continue. "You probably overheard me telling my servant that I just was awoken from a dream." He started and all the time kept his eyes trained on the suspicious male in front of him. "It was not just any kind of dream. It was a sign and on any other day I would have thought that you were like any other man, but now I see that you are not."

"I saw a ladder" Olav continued with a small smile playing at his lips. "This ladder was taller than any other and it reached all the way up to the skies. I was walking to its top, but just as I was about to see what lay before me I was woken up.[3]"

Norway still looked at the man in silence; he had no idea what to say. Olav's smile gained a sad tint to it. "I know what it means" Olav said calmly. "I will soon find out what the heavens will be like and I will be allowed to see what is at the top of the ladder. I will not walk out of tomorrow's battle, but my death will not be in vain. I will be the man that gathered all of Norðvegr under the same goal."

"The only thing I regret is that I could not see the truth earlier" Olav's smile finally faded completely. "I wished I could have known you under different circumstances Norðvegr." Olav put pressure on the name, proving that he did know who Norway was. "But I suppose that wasn't Gods plan for me. Instead it was his will that all of my people would join together to stand up against me. I will die a martyr's death"

Norway had left a few minutes later, neither he nor Olav had anything else to add.

He was not sure what to think. He should know better than anyone that it was more between heaven and earth that what the unaided eye could see, but still Olav's vision had been strange.

* * *

Through the rest of the night the mood in the farmer's camp seemed anxious and impatient. Olav's army was just within sight and the guards constantly kept an eye open for any signs of movement that would indicate the enemy was on the move or getting ready for battle. The men were eager to fight and Olav was outmanned by thousands giving them sure belief that they would win.

It was when morning came that the army prepared to march. The air was heavy with smoke from the fires that had just been put out and the morning mist colored the landscape in grey. But the men could feel the warmth radiating from the sun hiding behind the clouds. Soon enough it would help lift the fog and a bright day would be ahead of them.

Kalv and Tore had taken charge of the men. Kalv was walking in the front to lead them and Tore taking the rear making sure that no man would hold back when the cry for attack would come. "Gather farmers" he screamed as they marched. "We gather under these banners and may everyone that has suffered under Olav fight with everything he has got. We will take revenge on all the pain that he has caused us and we will break free from slavery that was his rule. Any man that does not fight is a coward!"

The men roared and the ground shook under their feet as they marched forward.

* * *

As they came close to the army of Olav, they halted and waited. Norway joined Kalv who stepped out in front of their army as to greet Olav who was leading his own army towards them. Kalv had told Norway he wanted to give the man one last chance to surrender peacefully even if Norway had come back after his conversation with Olav without result. But even if conversation would yield nothing in the form of peace, it would buy enough time to allow the last men of their army to catch up and move into battle positions.

"Why are you here Kalv?" Olav said mockingly as he stepped out in front of his men. "I thought we separated as friends when I left." Kalv looked ashamed at first, but he was quick to recover. "There are a lot of things that are different from what they should be. I am now on their side and I give you this one last time to end this peacefully." "Your farmers don't look that peaceful" Olav commented.

Torstein stepped up amongst them as he heard what Olav said. "They will give you the same peace you gave some of our people. You will pay for what you did to them!" he snarled angrily. Now Tore who had led the back of the army had rushed up to join them as well.

"Fram, fram, bondemenn[4]!" he screamed and a roar erupted from the army as they released a rain of arrows and spears. Olav's men scrambled to attack as well. "Fram, fram, kristenmenn, korsmenn, kongsmenn[5]!" Olav screamed and raised his sword.

* * *

The armies clashed together in a bloody battle. The men fought with vicious intensity and men fell on both sides. In the chaos it was hard to keep track on the earlier king as he had disappeared in the crowd. Norway with the three nobles at his trail fought their way through the enemy army in search of the king.

The man came seemingly out of nowhere. Tore cried out in surprise as a sword had slashed at his ankles. Olav stepped forward and raised his blade towards the group and his eyes glinted with evil intent. Tore screamed and angrily lashed out at the man before even thinking twice. Olav easily blocked the attack and made another slash at him in return.

As Tore stumbled from the heavy blow another man stepped out of the fighting masses around them, ready to strike at the weakened man. The rest of the nobles were too focused on Olav and never saw it coming, but Norway picked up a spear from the ground and stepped in front of Tore, spear raised against the attacker and supported with the butt end on the ground.

The man noticed Norway to late and by the work of his own momentum the head of the spear worked its way through his chest as he had charged forward. He let out a surprised gasp for air and dropped the blade he had been holding. Tore let out a triumphant laugh. "That is how you would skewer a bear" he yelled as the man dropped before them.

The battle had lasted for hours and the beautiful day was turning into night. The sun was setting and the sky was painted in the same red color of the battlefield. Olav Digre stepped back nervously as his enemies surrounded him and he realized he was now standing alone.

Torstein raised his axe and screamed as he lashed against the earlier king. Olav attempted to step back, but he was too late and the axe slashed him across the leg. Olav paled rapidly as he saw the blood gushing out of the wound and stumbled back. His attackers closely followed every step he made.

Olav breathed heavily as he found a large rock to lean against. "Dear lord" he whispered weakly, "Help me." "The lord above will not help you now" Tore snarled and stepped forward with a spear. Olav glanced helplessly up at the man before the spear was showed under his chainmail and opened his stomach.

Olav was desperately clutching on to the spear and gasping for air and then Kalv stepped up before him with sword in hand and made the last move on the king. The blade struck Olav in the neck and his eyes went round for a second before they closed and the man slid down from the rock and lay unmoving on the ground

* * *

The battle was as good as over after Olav had been grasped by death. Tore and Kalv threw their helmets on the ground and laughed heartily as the cheers of victory erupted around them. "It is done!" Tore laughed and slapped Kalv on the back. "We are rid of Olav and his control for good."

Kalv was a bit calmer in his celebration. He noticed that Norway had stepped over to the body of Olav. "Are you not happy that we won?" he asked as he walked up beside the other man. Norway snapped out of his thoughts when he realized someone had spoken directly to him. "Yes, of course I am" he said quickly.

Kalv raised an eyebrow at him."Then what's on your mind then?" he asked. "You seem like you are miles away." Norway looked up. "Would you like to know what Olav said to me when I visited before the battle?" he asked. Kalv crossed his arms but nodded.

"Olav told me that he knew that he would die in battle. He said he would die a martyr and be the one to unite the people of Norðvegr." Kalv snorted loudly. "Olav really though high of himself, one thing is that he thinks he can see the future like some higher being, the other is that he thinks he would be the one to unite our people."

"But think about it" Norway snapped back. "He has united us. Just look around you. This is the largest army ever gathered here at lands, and all of us were united under the goal of bringing down this one man." Kalvs mouth fell open as he realized it was true.

* * *

After the battle had been won and peace could return again, the stories of Olav spread. People had heard about his vision and believed that he had received a message directly from above as he had foreseen the outcome of the battle.

After the battle his body had been stored in a shed. A story was heard about a blind man walking in to this shed on the night after the battle. He rubbed his eyes with the king's blood and had his vision restored. Another story was from when they moved his body from this shed a year later to have it buried. Men said that his hair, beard and nails had grown even after death

The church saw all of this as sign that Olav had truly been in contact with God and they pointed him out as a saint earning him the name of Olav den hellige[6].

* * *

[1] 'Knut den store' is Norwegian and Danish meaning 'Knut the great'

[2] Olav Digre Haraldsson was said to have his own nobles against him as he had a tendency to flay their wives for sorcery. And Knut had gotten word from someone in Norway that the nobles were displeased, so there is some truth mixed in with the fiction here.

[3] It is written in Heimskringla that Olav had a dream like that on the night before the battle

[4] 'Fram, fram, bondemen' is Norwegian meaning 'forward, forward farmers'

[5] 'Fram, fram, kristenmenn, korsmenn, kongsmenn' is Norwegian meaning 'Forward, forward, Christian men, cross men (men of the cross), Kings men' Sorry for using Norwegian, but I really think the battlecries sound so much better in Norwegian. (It does to me, but then I am Norwegian)

[6] 'Olav den hellige' is Norwegian for 'Olav the holy' or better: 'St. Olav'


	22. Troubled times 1035 - 1042

**AN:** As I have written before 'I would rather skip posting a new chapter on time than to write something really crappy' and this is why I was quiet last week and I'm not sorry about it ;P I got called in to take a lot of extra shifts at work, making me really busy and then I just really struggled to make the first part of this chapter any good at all… (I have rewritten it several times and I hope it is decent now)

To GAL39: I will not be writing about the discovery of Vinland, at least not in this story… I wished it had been mentioned earlier and I might have considered it and found a way to work it in, but now I don't feel I can fit it in and I am not comfortable with the character that would be 'Vinland'… Sorry about that

* * *

**Troubled times 1035 – 1042**

For several minutes, the only sound in the room had been the one originating from feet pacing back and forth across the wooden floor. The rhythmic sound only seized once the Dane responsible for it finally stopped in his track. Norway had been seated in a chair, staring at a particularly interesting spot on the wall, pretending to ignore the restless Dane, but the sudden silence made him look away to give the man a questioning look.

"Are you sure this plan of yours is going to work?" The Dane asked, clearly uncertain as he met the stare from the Norwegian. "You did say yourself once that we cannot control our kings."

"That is true" Norway replied. "We cannot control, but what we can do is influence." "Your king is nothing but a child" Denmark said in frustration. "And that is exactly why I think it will work" Norway replied calmly. "Children are easier to influence and your king is not much older than mine is."

"At least mine is not called the boy-king" the Dane muttered under his breath, but it was clear that Norway had heard him from the frown and the icy glare that made its way to his face. "We can just ignore the entire situation and let our kings declare war on each other" Norway said coldly. "If that is what you want instead." "Norge" Denmark whined, "don't be like that."

Norway would have smiled had the situation not been this serious. Denmark had reacted exactly the way he had wanted him to. "So are we going to bring our kings for this discussion or not?" he asked. "My king Magnus will never believe that your new king has given up your 'claim' to my kingdom unless he can actually hear it from your king."

"We will bring them to a meeting" Denmark said. "I guess none of the kings truly knows what the plans of the other are. They just make assumptions. My king Hardeknut just assumed that Magnus would be aggressive towards my people because he had some grudge against us from the times our king ruled up north. Why else would he chase the jarl that worked for Knut away like he did when the old king died?"

"The jarl was a threat to Magnus" Norway replied. "Having a man like him in our land, it would only put a question to Magnus' rule." The Dane started up his pacing again. "If that is the way things really are, then there is just a great misunderstanding and no real reason for any of the kings to start a war, is there?"

"No there isn't" Norway sighed. "But there is no way they will realize it unless they actually talk it out." "I just really want this meeting to succeed" Denmark threw up his arms in frustration and kept on pacing.

"I know" Norway said in a softer tone than he had used earlier. "But we have always known that our kings may not always get a long and they can lead our kingdoms into conflict."

"I don't care about what they think!" the Dane hissed aggressively. "They are not at war yet and nor will they be as long as I have something to say about it. My king will be at that meeting if I so have to drag him there myself and I will not let him leave until the situation is resolved."

Norway could not help but to smile just a little at how the Dane just refused to accept the possibility that things might not go the way he wanted them to. "We will do what we can" he said. "But in the end it is really up to them."

He pushed back the chair he had been sitting on and rose up. Denmark observed his movements and gave him a questioning "Are you going somewhere Norge?" he asked. "I thought we were in the middle of a serious discussion here." "And I thought we both had come to the conclusion that we will have our king meet and talk out a treaty between our kingdoms to preserve the peace" Norway replied.

"And so you just decided to get up and leave all of a sudden?" Denmark sounded both surprised and amused. "Well yes" Norway said and turned away. "You seem eager to have them meet as soon as possible, so I should get back home and inform Magnus about it."

"That doesn't mean I wanted you to leave right this instance" the Dane laughed, all the traces of worry was as good as washed away as he had found something to distract him from it. "Is there any reason why you suddenly have to get back north immediately?" It took skill to read the barely noticeable guilt and embarrassment that was visible on Norway's face as he turned back towards the Dane again.

"I might have lied to the king when I traveled here" he said. "I never told him how far south I was going and why." "That's so cute" Denmark laughed and his mirth was obvious. "You are trying to keep us a secret from everybody." "That's not it!" Norway snapped irritably and the guilt was gone from his face. "I had no good explanation to the king for why I needed to travel here and I should get back soon before he wonders why this journey is taking so long."

"You just keep telling yourself that is the real reason" Denmark said, still laughing to the Norwegians great annoyance. "You still don't have to leave right this instance" the Dane continued. "Tomorrow will be a new possible day to travel and the day after that would be even better."

"Fine" Norway snapped after a minute of silent glaring that had been completely ignored. "I'll stay for tonight, but I can't wait any longer than that." "I ask for nothing more than that" Denmark answered with a smug smirk playing at his lips.

* * *

The meeting between the kings was to be held where the Gøtariver running from Sviþjòð met the sea, on ground that belonged to neither of the two kings. 12 men from each country had been chosen to accompany their respective kings on land and be witness to any decisions made between them. The rest of their men had to stay on board the ships.

The two groups had landed on separate sides on one on the beach and when they were ready, they walked towards each other with slow, almost ceremonial steps.

The 13 year old Norwegian king Magnus nervously adjusted the all too big helmet perched on top of his head as he stepped out in front of his men. Opposite of him, the Danish king stepped forward as well. Hardeknut at an age of 19 years towered over the young Norwegian king, making the boy seem so much younger. The young man smiled confidently as he took a few long strides to reach the boy-king and stopped just in front of him.

"So here we are, to discuss the fate of our people and land" The Danish king said out loud so everybody could hear him. "Word has reached me that you Norwegians are not seeking to take over my lands." Magnus cast a quick glance behind and saw one of his advisors nod back at him before he turned back. "No we are not. All I wish is to be recognized as the rightful king of my land" the boy said with the determined voice he could muster "without having to fear an invasion from your people to take my throne away from me and put my land under a Danish rule yet again."

Hardeknut nodded understandingly as Magnus drew his breath before continuing the words he had practiced before arriving. "In earlier times it has been common for our two people to be under the rule of a Danish king, but we now wish to be recognized as a separate kingdom. We have no quarrel with your people"

Now the Danish king was the one turning towards his advisors to receive a nod. "I accept your request" Hardeknut said. "But the deal I now will propose for you leave the opportunity for one more Danish king to rule over both countries." The Norwegians present cast glances among themselves and whispered a few quick words in wonder.

"What is this proposal of yours" Magnus asked as he twinned his fingers in the cloak he wore. Hardeknut smiled at him. "As a sign of friendship and agreement between the two of us I suggest that we make a promise" he said. "If any of us should perish without a son, then his kingdom should fall under the rule of the other."

Magnus nodded slowly as he considered. "We accept these terms" he said without turning to his advisors for opinions. Hardeknut's smile widened. "Then we only have to swear and have our men bear witness to it and the deal will be sealed."

One of the men in the Danish company suddenly elbowed his way to the front. Hardeknut turned to the man and suddenly seemed to remember something important as he turned back to the Norwegians. "I have with me the personification of my land" the king said proudly. "He is the proof that our people will honor this deal between us."

The Danish personification stepped up next to his king and he grinned as he noticed the male stepping up next to the Norwegian king a few moments later. Magnus seemed confused, but the other male spoke in his place. "I am the personification of Norðvegr and carry the same guaranty for the Norwegian people."

One of the elder males from the Danes stepped in between the two groups. "Here we have gathered the kings of two people, the spirits of their lands and 11 more men from each country" he said loudly. "Each man here will swear to uphold the terms for the deal for as long as they shall live and the deal will only perish once all of us mortal men present here have left this world in favor for the afterlife."

First to swear was the men each king had chosen to follow the meeting, before they made the promises as well, leaving the two personifications for last. Having heard the deal repeated by 24 men before them, they both knew the terms by heart.

Denmark was first to speak up. "I, the kingdom of Denmark hereby swear that if my king is to die without a son to take his place, I will accept to follow the rule of Magnus Olafsson, the rightful king of Norðvegr for as long as he should live. And I hereby recognize the Norðvegr as an independent kingdom, with the right to be under the rule of their own king." He said every single word in a cheerful tone and with a smile at his lips. His eyes were sparkling and at no point did they break the contact with the colder ones of his Norwegian counterpart.

"So how do you think this will turn out?" Norway whispered quietly enough for only Denmark to hear when the turn came to him. "This deal says I will have a king of my own in the future." Denmark flashed an even brighter smile at him, just for an instant. "This deal only lasts for as long as any of the other men hear shall live" the Dane said with a tone turning into teasing. "And none of them will live forever."

Norway narrowed his brows just a little, but none of the other men present did ever notice it. "I, the kingdom of Norðvegr" he said loud and clear "do hereby swear that if my king, Magnus is to die without a son to take his place, I will accept the rule of Hardeknut of Denmark as my king for as long as he should live."

The words had been spoken and the two kings and their men could leave for their homes in peace and with a new friendship secured. The uncertainty between their kingdoms was resolved and they didn't have to fear an attack from each other. The Norwegians had the guarantee that the Danes would not try to invade in order to take over the rule again, and the Danes knew the Norwegians carried no grudge for having been ruled by Danish kings in the past.

* * *

Five years later the words had reached king Magnus and his men. Hardeknut had died all of a sudden. He had been without a wife and without any children. Denmark was left without a king and there was trouble approaching from the south. Magnus was quick to send out word of his own to gather an army and sail to the south in order to see if the deal made years before would be honored.

Denmark himself had of course chosen to greet them as they came on shore, along with the counsel Hardeknut had left behind upon his death. Magnus gave the men he recognized a short nod as he stepped on land. "King Magnus" one of the men greeted respectfully as he bowed in front of the now 18 year old Norwegian king. "We have awaited your arrival. There is a counsel set to meet in Viborg, so that we can all discuss what we should do next."

Norway frowned at the sight that met him when he stepped on land just after his king. Denmark was with the nobles, looking tired and exhausted as if he had not slept in days. The man smiled when he saw the Norwegian personification, but it did not have its usual spark.

The group of people had started to move away from the beach, leaving the ships behind. They would stay in the small village for the night, but the Norwegian army and the Danes that had come to meet them would march to Viborg when dawn came.

Norway used the opportunity to catch up with the Danish personification. "What is going on?" he asked quietly, looking straight ahead so nobody would really catch them talking to each other. "You will understand tomorrow at the counsel" Denmark replied tiredly. "I might be in a bit of trouble."

* * *

"The Wends" Norway said loudly after the counsel had been held, sounding both angry and stressed "The Wends are making their way north." He and Denmark had snuck away after the discussion at Viborg had ended. Everybody had been too busy to notice them sneaking away. "They have burned and plundered down south" Denmark mumbled "and now they are threatening to invade as well."

Denmark pushed a hand tiredly through his hair but having no luck at making the blond strands follow his usual unruly hairstyle and they fell back in front of his face."Hardeknut just had to die at the worst possible time" he muttered. "I don't think my people or I have ever been without a king since the time of king first began."

"You are not without a king" Norway said. "Your people just hailed Magnus as king, just as the deal bound them to do. You have him[1]." Denmark let out a short laugh, but it was more disbelief in it than humor. "I never actually though Hardeknut would actually die before he could ever get a son. The deal was just supposed to be the symbol of friendship between our kingdoms."

"You find it that strange to have a Norwegian king?" Norway asked. "It's a bit strange I have to admit" Denmark answered and nodded in thought. "But I guess it was necessary. There is nobody here at lands for the moment that could ever fill the spot after Hardeknut and at the moment there needs to be a king here at lands right now, or the Wends will go forth unchallenged."

Denmark seemed to bright up again. "I guess there is another good thing that can come out of this situation" he said. "Having a common king again, can give us more time together." Norway actually gave him a small smile in return.

"I guess it will" the Norwegian said smugly. "But this time we are under the rule of my king and that should leave me the one in charge."

* * *

The Wends were continued their march to the North. Magnus had promised that he as a king would protect the people against these southern Barbarians and set a stop to their plundering. He gathered a massive army, consisting of Danes as well as Norwegians, marched them to Lyrskogshede[2] in wait for the southerners to get that far to the north on their raid.

The Wends marched up to the field where their Danish-Norwegian army had chosen to wait for them. None of them seemed surprised to see an army of Vikings in wait for them. Words had probably reached them and they were prepared to fight as well.

In front of the Danish-Norwegian army, the two personifications were standing by the king's side. "That is one big army" Denmark had muttered quietly. "They must be almost 20 000 strong from the looks of it." "Numbers doesn't matter" Norway whispered back. "Trust me." Denmark didn't answer; he only looked over at the Norwegian who was staring out at the enemy army with a calm expression on his face, seeming not at all bothered by being vastly outnumbered.

Magnus stepped out in front of his men and drew his sword. "The army before us has the advantage in numbers" the king screamed to his army. "Yesterday I was worried that we might walk to our deaths, but now I know that this is not the case. I had a dream in which I saw my father, saint Olav. I know that he is watching over us and will lead us to victory."

On the other side of the field the Wends were preparing for battle as well and their cries could be heard as the army charged forwards, shaking the ground as they moved across the field.

"Here we go" Denmark yelled as lifted his battleaxe, preparing to charge. His excitement was clear from the sparks in his eyes and the grin he presented. In the front of the army, Magnus pointed his blade at the approaching horde. "To battle!" he screamed.

* * *

The Wends had the numbers on their side, but the northerners were by far superior in battle skills and the men from the south fell like flies before their weapons. But as soon as one man fell another would rush forward to take his place and they kept attacking in wave after wave.

"There is just no end to them" Denmark screamed over the noise from battle as he pulled the blood stained battleaxe out of another body it had drained the life from. Norway stepped up beside him so they could fight off the southerners back to back.

"We will fight them off!" Norway screamed back as he lopped of a head. "Just you watch me!"

Denmark turned to the Norwegian in wonder just as a powerful gust of wind hit them. The Dane was shocked at what he saw. Norway made a simple swing with his sword through the air. He didn't actually hit anyone, but several Wends before him flew several meters through the air as if some invisible force had struck them.

"What the hell just happened?" Denmark screamed, almost dropping his axe to the ground. The mysterious force had given them a short break from the assault as the men that had been hit lie screaming on the ground in agony. "Close your eyes and I will show you" Norway mumbled quickly in return.

Denmark did as he was asked and he could feel Norway's cold fingers brush over his eyelids. "Just for today I will grant you the gift of sight." Norway's voice was a silent whisper, barely audible in the surrounding noise. "For as long as the sun is to linger over the horizon on this day, you will see what others may not."

Norway's fingers disappeared and Denmark took it as a hint to open his eyes again. He struggled to choke the surprised squeak that threatened to rush past his lips at the sight that met him.

He met Norway's cold eyes. But they were different from before. The dark blue color of his irises had taken over both his pupils and the surrounding white taking over the entire eye. The Norwegian was also surrounded by a light green mist that looked almost humanoid in shape.

Denmark's mouth fell open; he had no way of avoiding it. "What just happened to your eyes?" he asked loudly and his voice was dangerously close to cracking. "And what is that thing?!" He pointed towards the mist.

"We are standing on soil that belongs to me now that my king rules over it" Norway said and Denmark realized his voice sounded different as well, almost ethereal in nature. "What does that mean?" Denmark asked desperately and confused.

Norway smiled and it was a smile Denmark had never seen on the Norwegian ever before. It was bright and genuine, not just a small quirk of his lips. "It means I can cheat" he said confidently. "I am protecting our land and on ground belonging to me I am stronger than anyone can imagine."

With those words the Norwegian turned to face the Wends again. The green shadow followed his exact movements. Norway threw out one of his arms, and the shade did the same thing. The misted arm hit several men and sent them flying back again. It was just what had happened to them before, but now Denmark could see the mysterious force that had been the cause of it.

Norway turned back to him and his blue eyes flashed in blood lust. "Are you going to help me or not?" he asked. Denmark laughed as he finally snapped out of the shock of seeing what he did. "Death to the Wends!" he yelled as he rushed forward[3].

* * *

[1] Magnus became the king of Denmark in 1942 after the death of Hardeknut. Heimskringla likes to say that this is the result of a deal struck between Magnus and Hardeknut. Modern historians don't seem to believe the meeting ever took place, but even if the political situation between Denmark and Norway was a bit sketchy around this time, there must have been some connection since the Danes took Magnus as king with 'open arms.' They had no clear candidate for king in Denmark and the Wends needed to be dealt with immediately

[2] Lyrskogshede is located about 5-6 km north of where Schleswig/Sleswig/Slesvig is located today.

[3] At the battle of Lyrskoghede it has been estimated that as many as 15 000 Wends fell as the Danish-Norwegian army defeated them. According to Danmarkskrønike it is said that Magnus fought so well that he was given the name 'the good' because he killed so many of the Wends in the battle. The Norwegian sources however claim that he got that name because he let a man flee his land instead of pursuing him in order for revenge


	23. Hardråde 1047 - 1064

**AN: **Bring out the torches and pitchforks, give me a lab coat, a crazy hairdo and call me Frankenstein! Because I might have created a monster… :S I don't know! Argh! I'll go hide now… In shame…. or maybe try to write something better for later, or fix earlier chapters when it comes to grammar.

But first: About the Wends... I hadn't even heard the term until I started reading about Magnus den Gode :P Basically "Wends" is a term for 'West Slavs' that lived near Germanic settlements. Apparently they were not a homogenous people so it's hard to pinpoint exactly who they were. The Norwegian sources (that I read) will mostly just mention them as a threat to Denmark and not go beyond that.

* * *

**Hardråde 1047 - 1064**

Magnus den Gode did all he could to bring and hold peace in both the kingdoms under his rule. He ended up spending more time in Denmark than he did back home in his own country in order to keep the Wends at bay and fend them off. But even if he succeeded, he was still just an inexperienced young boy, wearing a golden helmet and playing at war. And people saw that as an opportunity of getting into power themselves, thinking Magnus would not be able to stop them.

Magnus had chosen the Dane Svend Estridsson as his jarl, even if he had been advised against it on the grounds that the man would be to powerful to keep under control. Magnus would pay for the mistake of trusting Svend once the Wends had been defeated. Svend figured that Denmark had no more need of this foreigner as king as their enemy had been defeated and he started fighting to gain the throne for himself.

Svend was no big threat alone. But the Norwegian Harald Sigurdsson, brother of St. Olav and Magnus' uncle was hungry for power as well, and he found it perfectly acceptable to go up against his own nephew to gain what he wanted which was to rule over both Norðvegr and Denmark.

Harald had spent years away in battle and returned home rich, both in money and experience. He teamed up with Sven and together they terrorized the land of Denmark.

Magnus saw no option but to offer his uncle half the kingdom in order to get peace. Having his uncle as a co-king was a low price to pay to stop a rebellion that took the lives of men and drained important resources. After that, Harald left Svend to fight for himself, for he had gotten what he wanted and was one step closer to being the one king.

* * *

Denmark wondered if this was the first time in his life when he actually wished he could be as far away from Norway as possible. He had dived for cover behind a table once his door was kicked in all of a sudden, and he was happy he did so. In the wall behind the table, a knife was still quivering slightly where it was now imbedded in the wood after having been thrown in anger.

"What the hell did I do Norge?!" Denmark yelled from the floor, not taking the risk of looking over the top of the table. Norway let out what sounded like a sneer from across the room. "Like you don't know what is wrong!" he snarled. "That damnable Danish jarl, Svend, he just won't stop his rebellion. Magnus is supposed to be the king. Magnus was chosen by the counsel and Svend was chosen to jarl, but he repays us by going up against us."

"I was not the one that asked Svend to rebel against Magnus" Denmark desperately yelled back, but he regretted it as another knife flew over his head and joined its partner on the wall with a loud thud, and the metal sung as it shook from the impact.

"Bullshit!" the Norwegian screamed. "He is the most powerful man in your land apart from Magnus, he is a Dane and he is seeking the throne. That that should mean you are connected to him as if he was a king. And that's when the curse of being a personification comes in. Our emotions and desires will not always be our own. The wishes and dreams of our kings will always have the highest priority."

"Do you really believe that?" Denmark yelled almost in panic. "That because one mighty man is starting a rebellion, I personally want to end your king's rule as well?" "Yes!" Norway snarled aggressively in return, but no more knives were thrown.

In the ensuing silence, Denmark dared a peek over the tabletop. Norway was standing just by the door, looking nothing like what he usually did. His entire being was emitting pure fury. His brows tightly knitted together and eyes shooting daggers of their own and his hands were tight fists ready to strike.

"You can't be serious now" Denmark said loudly. "You know perfectly well that we don't have to obey our king. You joined the army that brought down your king St. Olav." He was getting angry himself now and took the chance of stepping away from the shelter of the table. "You also know that we cannot order our kings to do anything. I did not tell Svend to start a rebellion and I am not aiding him now.

"Get back!" Norway screamed and drew the sword that had been resting at his hip. Just a hint of doubt flickered across his face as he took what seemed like a panicked step backwards.

Denmark took a few determined step forwards, forcing the Norwegian closer to the ruined front door. "Tell me Norge" he said. "First you come in, breaking down my door. You seem determined to kill and now, after all that you back down without a fight. Make up your mind! What are you trying to do?"

The Norwegians gaze flickered over the room. Letting the blade drop down for a few seconds, only to point it back at the now irritated as well as confused Dane. "I have no idea" he mumbled as he looked to the side. "It's not right, is it?"

"What are you going on about Norge?" Denmark asked angrily as he threw his arms out. Norway completely ignored him, his eyes flickered across the room but he didn't seem to really notice anything at all and all the while keeping a discussion with himself, to quiet for anyone but himself to hear.

"Norge!" Denmark snapped loudly and it finally seemed to force the Norwegian out of his thoughts. "I can't keep their thoughts out" Norway muttered and blinked as if he was trying to get the world back into focus again. "There should never be two kings."

Denmark let his anger fade. He pushed the sword pointed at him to the side and Norway stood unmoving and let him take it away. "You don't have two kings" Denmark said as he put the blade on the ground where it could do little harm. "Magnus is king and Harald is co-king."

"Harald is too powerful" Norway snapped. "Magnus is weak compared to him, but he is still the main king. Now it is like I have to voices screaming in my head and I can't even figure out which thoughts are mine anymore." His entire body was shaking in frustration. "One part of me wants to tear you to pieces for what Svend is doing and one doesn't consider him a threat at all. And then there's the hunger for power. I feel like anything I want I can just take. There is nothing to stop me, I'm too strong. "

Denmark smiled gently and pulled the smaller male into a comforting embrace. "It'll be alright. You probably just need some time to sort out your thoughts." He was expecting the Norwegian to huff in annoyance and shove him away, which was how he usually reacted when Denmark would behave in such a manner. Norway just hated to be pulled into hugs at any given moment.

This time however, Norway leaned in closer and inhaled deeply. He brought his hands up to grasp the fabric of the Dane's tunic. "Norge?" Denmark asked utterly confused. "What are you doing?"

He looked down to see Norway gazing back at him with eyes gleaming hungrily.

"Norge?"

Denmark was about to say something more, but never got the chance. Norway's lips were on his, effectively drowning any words he was about to spill. He was unsure what to do. Give in to the touch of the one he loved or not. But then was it the real Norway kissing him? Or was he too far gone in the confusion of having two kings struggling to be in power?

Norway's hand was in his hair, twinning the strands around his fingers. Denmark didn't dare to move away and he didn't want to. It was Norway kissing him, beautiful and mysterious. How could he possibly resist even if the Norwegian wasn't acting like himself?

All of a sudden bliss was broken by pain. Denmark cried out in pushed Norway at arm's length. He could feel the taste of bitter iron on his tongue. "What the hell Norge?!" he cried as he took his hands to his lips and looked at it to see the dark red of blood. "You bit me!"

Norway was smirking devilishly and Denmark could not help but to think that it was not really Norway looking at him. It was not the Norway he had grown up knowing, it was not one he had taken care of when it had been needed and it was definitely not the one he had fallen for so many years ago.

Norway easily broke out of Denmark's grip and closed the gap between them again. He brought up a hand and grasped Denmark by his hair to pull his face down to his own level. The Dane was frozen in shock as the Norwegian leaned in and he could feel breath just by his ear.

"You're mine!"

* * *

It was a terrible riding accident that would take the life from the young king. Magnus got no glorious death dealt by the hands of an enemy as he was defending the land.

It was obvious that his uncle Harald Sigurdsson would be the king of Norðvegr as he had ruled together with Magnus for a while already and he was known to be a powerful king. But the question of who would rule Denmark after Magnus was left open.

The only way to settle the matter was to call upon all the mighty men, to have a meeting at Viborg and decide who it would be. Among the gathered people were Harald Sigurdsson and Svend Estridsson, the two men that would have the necessary skills to rule a country.

Harald was holding on to the gold decorated helmet Magnus had worn to symbolize his status as king during the course of the meeting. Svend was looking a bit shabbier dressed in a commoners clothes. He had spent years fighting and raiding around the land. He had desperately fought to gain power and it had taken its toll on him, leaving the man looking exhausted.

Denmark and Norway were present as well. The Dane was barely capable of sitting still as the meeting was opened and as it progressed. He kept casting looks around the room, more than once letting his gaze linger on the Norwegian personification.

Norway had managed to get his calm poise back. If he still was plagued by competing emotions like he had been earlier, there was no telling by the way he appeared now. He basically looked bored, staring out in the empty air with his arms folded across his chest, not engaging in the conversation.

"Harald Hardråde[1] would be an excellent choice for king" one of the noblemen spoke up. "His rule is strong and he has good experience with battle." "I agree" one of the other shot in more cautiously. "Harald is a good candidate, but I was there when Magnus fell of his horse. He was mortally wounded, but before he passed, he told me that he wished for Svend Estridsson to become king of Denmark."

"What!" Harald yelled out in protest and slammed his fist on the table. "I have acted as king for both countries along with my nephew for years and now you wish to take it away from me." The other man held out his arms to call for silence. "Magnus had made a deal with Hardeknut years ago. The agreement stated that if Hardeknut was to pass then Magnus rule Denmark for as long as he would live. Now Magnus is gone as well and that terminates the deal. That leaves Harald and all other Norwegians with no claim here."

* * *

Harald Hardråde was fuming when the meeting was over. A couple of people that had been present under the counsel had gathered in the evening to discuss the outcome. "The kingdom is rightfully mine!" Harald yelled. "I refuse to accept having Svend rule on equal line with me."

"I am not happy about us both being chosen as kings either" Svend spat back. "We should never have bent the knee to some northern boy in the first place. But it is what the council has decided and nothing will change it."

"Matthias"

Denmark whirled as he heard his human name; he had been engrossed in the discussion that was going out of control. The two kings and their men were screaming at each other in fury.

When he noticed that Norway was walking towards him, he laughed nervously and brushed a hand through his hair. Norway narrowed his eyebrows as he walked up beside the Dane. "We need to talk."

The Norwegian was struggling to stay in control. His hands were shaking and his voice was strained, but the Dane didn't seem to notice any of it. "You mean actually talk?" Denmark asked, faking humor, but the undertone of uncertainty was evident. "Or do you mean that we will talk first and then later have me duck from knives or wonder what the hell you will do next."

"I am trying to stay in control" Norway hissed through clenched teeth. "This is important." Denmark's forced smile fell. "I'm sorry Norge" he rushed to say. "I just that you have been acting really strange and I don't really know what to do about it."

"If you don't know what to do, then let me give you one last order for this time when you and your kingdom are supposed to be at least partially under my king's rule." Norway's voice was like ice, sharp and biting cold.

"I'll do anything for you Norge" Denmark said lightheartedly. He somehow managed to make his voice sound optimistic even if the air all around them was tense and angry as the other men were still arguing in the background. Norway frowned even more at his behavior.

"You will fight" Norway stated firmly.

Denmark was about to protest, but Norway shot him another glare and held up a hand to silence him. "The only reason why I am saying this is because Magnus was my true king and his last wish should matter in the end. Harald is king now and all he wishes to do is crush all of you Danes like bugs, unless you bend to his will. His will is too strong and I won't be able to fight of his will forever."

"But things were good" Denmark protested. "We were together under the same rule. It worked. We were happy."

"We won't stay happy if you don't fight against Harald's rule. Svend will fight. He is your king, you should aid him. A king and personification are supposed to be on the same side, even if we have not always done so." Norway never strayed from the icy tone and his mask never fell. He knew that if he showed any trace of emotion at all, Denmark would not listen to him and he would keep insisting that things could still work out.

"But fighting against Harald would mean fighting against you." Denmark cried. "I don't want to." Norway punched him in the shoulder.

"Don't let your emotions get in the way Danmark" he said. "I know you, and I know that you are not a person meant to be ruled. You might be alright on a short term, but sooner or later it will drive you mad, not being free and able to make your own decisions. You will be forced to accept the orders of someone who is not of your people and you will come to hate me for it."

Denmark's mouth fell open, but he couldn't get any words out, so Norway continued. "Harald will try to bring down Svend, and when he does I want you to fight back with everything you have. Please let me honor the promise made between Magnus and Hardeknut. Please don't let your human emotions drag you down in the mud. I am not worth it"

"But you are" Denmark said, struggling to talk with a thick voice. Norway sighed and shook his head. "Harald's will is to strong and if you let him, he will crush you all. So if you care about me at all, then you will fight. Because I do not wish to see you crushed under the thumb of a king that only cares about power."

Denmark nodded understandingly. It hurt to accept, but it was the curse of the personifications. King and country came first, human emotions second.

* * *

Harald Hardråde was a stubborn man, not willing to give up once he had his mind set on something. For him it had not been enough to be one of two kings of Denmark. He wanted it all and it lost him half the claim he had. In his anger he declared war on Svend Estridsson in revenge for having stood up against him. Year after year he sent raiding parties down south, plundering, burning, and leaving everything in ruins[2].

"This cannot be true" Harald mumbled as he paced back and forth in the throne room. "The one thing that is stopping me is the lack of money. If I could only send one more raid, I am sure I would have been able to make Svend and the Danes lick my boots."

"You might have one a battle against them" Norway commented dryly. "It gives you no guaranty that an invasion would go the same way. "It was not just any battle" Harald snapped proudly. "It was a great battle. There was twice as many of them and we still won[3]. Svend's men are no match to mine. I have fought many more battles than any of them."

"It doesn't matter" Norway said. "You won't get the Danish throne. They won't let you. They will fight you and if you get it to the throne, you will have to spend every last breath you have by fighting to keep it."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Harald hissed angrily.

"You go for someone weaker" Norway said with a smirk. The king narrowed his brows curiously. "What could I take when I can't have Denmark?"

"You go for someone that has never been able to defend themselves" Norway stated. "A place where we know we can get easy money, a place our people have raided for over 250 years, and never before have had we met resistance worth mentioning."

"England" Harald grinned.

"England" Norway confirmed with a bloodthirsty gleam to his eyes.

* * *

[1] Hardråde means something like 'hard ruler' or 'stern counsel'. He got the name from how he seized control over trade between Norway and Denmark. He was said to be without scruples, but it was probably thanks to him that Oslo started growing around his time.

[2] Harald Hardråde was infuriated when he was not chosen as the sole ruler of Denmark, so every year he would send raids to Denmark, because he was so desperate to be king over both kingdoms.

[3] 'The Battle of Niså' fought in 1062. The Norwegians were outnumbered 150 against 300, but during the battle they received more aid. The Danes were not expecting any more help and some of them are said to have fled in shame during the cover of darkness to escape certain death, among them Svend. After the battle, both kingdoms were out of resources to keep the war going and there was peace between them.


	24. End of an era 1066

**End of an era 1066**

The sun was blazing down from a clear blue sky and the air had been hot from the very first light of morning. Harald Hardråde's army was out scouting by the bridge of Stamford. They were waiting for the arrival of an English army, expecting retaliation after they had taken the city of York a few days earlier.

On a small height with a view of the entire area, a small group of Vikings were relaxing on the soft grass, enjoying the weather and talking amongst themselves. On a flat area on either side of the river the rest of the army was gathered. Many more of the men had also taken the chance to rest and enjoy the unusual warm weather, considering it was September.

"Do you really think it was wise of us to leave most of the armor behind?" one of the men asked while chewing on a piece of dried fish that they had brought from back home. One of the other sat up in the grass and laughed. "It is way too warm to march from the ships and to here in full mail and besides, it will take the Anglo-Saxons at least a few more days to march all the way this far north. Have no worries."

The man lay back on the soft grass with his hands behind his head for support. "They have nothing to stand up against us with anyways. We crushed them at Fulord just a few days ago and they fled like cowards[1]. Even the new English king's brother, Tostig must know that their people are doomed to fail as he joined on our side in this war. He will have to fight his own brother, but he doesn't seem to have any problem with going up against his own kin."

More men joined in on the laughter. "With all the dead that piled up in the marsh outside of Fulord during the English's escape, we were able to cross over it without even having to get our feet wet" One of the boasted to the agreeing murmurs from the group. "Yes" one of them said. "Fulord was not much of a challenge."

They lay in silence for a long time after, just enjoying the warm weather and the feeling of still soft grass under them, even if the autumn was well on the way. That was until one of them suddenly sat back up again to look around in wonder and confusion.

"Can any of you hear that noise?" he asked, clearly stressed. None of the others even bothered to look up at him. "Are you hearing things that are not there" one said with a laugh. "No I am not" the first protested. "It's like the low rumble from thunder, but it's constant."

Now the rest of the company erupted in laughter as well. "Look at the sky" one of them roared. "There is not a single cloud in sight. There is no way you can hear thunder in weather like this."

The laughter died mere seconds later, when the rest of the group noticed the sound in question. "That is not thunder" one of them gasped as his face paled noticeably. They all scrambled to their feet in panic.

"That cannot be!" one of them said in disbelief. "It should have been many more days before they could make it this far north."

A state of chaos hit the Vikings as the yell from the first scouts was heard throughout the area. "The English army, they are here!"

* * *

Harald Hardråde swore under his breath as the ground shook under their feet from the steady march of the approaching army. The men all around him had already started to panic and hurried around the place, like ants would do after someone stirred up their anthill with a stick. None of them had expected anybody to reach them in only five days after they had gotten a victory at Fulord and now their enemy had caught them unprepared.

Norway ran up beside his king and panted slightly when he stopped after the run. "Its king Harold and his army" he stated coldly. "Damn it" Harald spat in return. "There is no way we can escape from here, many of the men are still on the other side of that bridge and we cannot abandon them."

"Those men on the other side are already lost" Norway snapped. "We can't get them all over the bridge in time to save them, the bridge is too narrow. The English are about to overwhelm them already and if we don't want the same fate we have to get the troops on this side in position right now."

"Helvete[2]!" Harald snarled and kicked a rock on the ground. He had no choice but to accept the dire situation he and his army was in. "To arms!" Hardråde screamed at the top of his lungs, it was the only option he had. His generals ran out in different directions to yell out the same order to the rest of the men that had not directly heard the king.

Hardråde was observing as his men hurriedly prepared for the sudden attack with a clear frown on his face. One could see the worry on his face in addition to his anger. The only things the men had to defend themselves with were simple helmets and shields. Everything else had been left at the ships, because the weather had to warm to walk in full armor and none had expected the enemy army to reach them that soon.

"I need everybody to get in position on top of that hill!" Harald screamed and pointed to the same hill where some of the men had enjoyed the weather earlier. The earlier English jarl Tostig joined the two Norwegians as most of their army struggled to get into positions.

They could hear screaming and the clash of metal from the other side of the small river. The attack had already begun and the unprepared men on the other side were being slaughtered at the hands of the English army. The dying screams of Vikings by far outnumbered the ones belonging to men from the English army.

* * *

Once the group of Vikings that had been on the wrong side of the river was all dead, the newly crowned king of England, Harold Godwinson stepped up in front of his soldiers. Harald Hardråde followed his example and stepped forwards as well but he was in the company of Norway and Tostig. The rest of his men that had decided to wait a little longer to move into positions waited a few steps behind to watch the exchange of words.

Both parts were staring at the other, constantly calculating how their army would fare in the unavoidable battle that would break out. "Brother" Harold yelled over the river and Tostig flinched noticeably, for he carried no longer any love for the man that shared his last name. "You are not a lost cause yet." The king continued. "If you surrender now I will allow you to regain your earlier title of jarl and I will let you live in peace from me."

Harold suddenly turned his attention away as someone tugged on his cloak. He knelt down and a young boy stepped up beside him to whisper something in his ear. The boy turned to look at the Vikings on the other side of the river and they could see just a spark of emerald colored irises before the boy ran off and disappeared in the crowd just as quickly as he had appeared.

The king's stood back up and smirked at Hardråde who was clenching his hands into fists in anger by the interruption. "So Harald" the English king spoke with mirth. "If you surrender I can offer you six feet of English soil for your grave. Or maybe even seven, for you are taller than most men."

Harald roared in anger at the insult and was about to rush over the bridge. Norway and Tostig both struggled to hold the man back and several of the Vikings stepped forward to yell insults at the English king and their army.

One man stepped up besides the laughing English king and handed him the reigns to a horse. Harold easily climbed up in the saddle and was handed a helmet. His army was moving into position, getting ready to cross the narrow bridge separating them from their enemy.

It was clear that the English by far both outmanned the Vikings. They had more men, they were in full armor and they had a large group of men on horses as well.

* * *

One of the men in Hardråde's group of Vikings stepped up beside the angered king. The man was taller than Harald himself and beat any other man in their company when it came to height and his shoulders were broad and strong. "My king" the man said, and his voice rumbled like thunder. "We do not have the odds on our side and I fear that this is my last day on this earth."

Hardråde's eyes were flashing in fury, but he said nothing. The taller man knelt in front of his king and held up his battle axe before the man, proving his respect. "Your army still needs time to get into position. Please allow me the honor of defending the bridge. I will give you the time you need and I will prove my worth."

Harald's face softened and he put a man on the kneeling man's shoulder, but there was also a sad hint to his features. "Make us proud" Hardråde said firmly. "Give them hell."

Hardråde spent no more time with the Viking that was ready to face his death. Instead he gave a signal for his group to follow the rest of their army where they had almost managed to station themselves like the king had ordered. When the English crossed the river they would have to fight uphill and with a river at their back. They were better prepared than the Vikings had been, but there was no way Harald Hardråde would make it easy for them to defeat him, for he had years of experience in battle and he knew how to use the knowledge he had earned over his years.

The English army had not yet charged yet, they were merely waiting to see what kind of trick the Vikings had to show. The giant of a man, a true berserker rose back up when he was the only man left by the riverbank on the Norwegian side. He held up the axe and the metal shone in the bright sunlight. He was one man against thousands, but he would show them no fear as he stepped on the wooden bridge and prepared to be attacked with a loud roar.

* * *

On the hill, king Harald and his group had made it back to the rest of the army. As they had made their way back, Norway had cast several glances back to check on the enemy's progress and every single time he saw the berserker swing the giant axe against a rival. Only a few of the English men had dared to challenge him on the narrow bridge and the rest of the army stood behind in wait, seemingly unsure of what to do and it gave the Norwegian time to move into a more strategic position.

This time when Norway turned, their enemy had seemed to find a solution to their problem. A small boat was sailing down the river with a few men on board. The berserker was busy fighting two men that had dared to step out on the bridge and he didn't see floating threat slowly coming closer.

He only noticed them as one of the attackers once they managed to thrust a spear up through the planks in the bridge and struck him in the side. The man screamed and threw himself at the nearest enemy, lopping his head off in the desperate strike. But it was over for him and once the berserker fell over dead moments later.

The English were free to cross the bridge and unleash everything they had unhindered now that the one berserker was no more[3].

* * *

It was more blood than Norway had seen in any other battle before. Both armies were fighting with such fury and willpower. The Norwegians were better placed strategically, but without armor they were too vulnerable to the enemies attack, and many of them unlike the Norwegians wore full mail. The northerners attacks seemed to peel off, when the same type of attack turned towards them would leave them either badly wounded or dead.

"Hold the shield wall!"Hardråde was yelling, but Norway could barely hear the king's command over the noise. "They are breaking through!" Tostig screamed back just as they heard a loud crack from breaking wood where shield had no longer been able to keep up with the strain of holding attackers back.

Norway was beside the two men in charge of their army, desperately slashing at the enemies. But there never seemed to be any end to them. He was already covered in blood. From his enemies, from his people, his own, there was no telling the difference between it all. They were losing. Slowly but surely, he could feel it. His energy was draining and it was not just because fighting was physically exhausting.

Besides him, Tostig suddenly screamed in agony and fell over. A man in full armor stepped over the dead body, his sword lifted high and ready for another strike. Norway snarled and rushed forward in retaliation. The man had no time to react before the Norwegians blade was sticking out of his chest and he fell over just like the man he had defeated mere moments before.

Norway panted heavily as he stumbled up to retrieve the sword still stuck in the man. A quick glance around the field revealed an opening in the battle. He was surprised to see that he was alone in an area of a several meters. It was like every single man around had been careful to avoid that one spot in the field, for everywhere else they were smashed together in one big unorganized huddle of men, desperate to tear each other's throats out.

Then he sensed the magic. For some reason, something or someone had cleared this one spot by the use of magic.

Another look around and he noticed the boy, standing alone just by the edge of the magically cleared circle and with a green cloak flapping behind him. None of the men around seemed to notice him at all. In the area it was like only the two of them were in existence.

"England" Norway muttered quietly as he finally recognized who it was.

The boy smiled viciously at the Viking and brought up a bow with an arrow already resting on the string. "This time it's my turn to win" England almost laughed as he lifted the bow, pulled back the string to his cheek and let the arrow fly.

Norway had thought the arrow was meant for him. But even if it did not tear its way through his flesh, it hurt He turned to see who it had hit and it was clear why it had been painful.

Harald Hardråde never was able to let out a final cry in pain. The arrow had imbedded itself in his throat, cutting of all sound before the man could make them.

Norway screamed in anger and pain as the king fell over, dead. England was laughing manically and Norway whirled back to face the boy. "You will pay boy!" He sneered through clenched teeth.

England calmly brought up the bow again, with another arrow resting on the string and a small smile still curled at his lips. This time he aimed the arrow it at the Norwegian personification before he let it go.

The pain was too much for Norway to bear. His king was dead and now an arrow burrowed its way through his shoulder. His legs just gave out under him and send him tumbling down in the blood soaked mud. It was impossible to breathe properly. He could barely get any air as his face was on the ground, and the pain consumed him.

He could barely hear the footsteps of a child getting closer and a soft giggle that did not fit in on a battleground. Norway gathered enough strength to look up at the child, who was staring back down at him.

"It's payback time" the child hissed before he sent a kick towards the Norwegians face, leaving the world in black for the personification.

* * *

When the fog of unconsciousness finally cleared and Norway slowly started to regain his senses again. He was lying on his side on fresh dirt judging by the strong scent hanging in the air. But there was also the foul stench of blood and sweat, making it all too clear that a battle had just been fought on the same ground. But what the end result had been, he could not tell from where he was.

He tried to open his eyes, but the sudden light after the long while in darkness was too bright for him to make out anything. He was about to move so that he could get some shade over his eyes, but he ended up groaning in pain instead as it felt like lightning was shooting through shoulder and set every nerve ablaze with the small movement. Dark spots filled his vision and what had been clear before turned back into a blur.

There were people nearby. When they heard the Norwegian move about on the ground, they walked up next to him in silence and just waited. Their footsteps had been heavy, and chainmail clanked for every step they took. But there was one extra set of footsteps. They were fast, soft and they stopped right in front of him.

"Norðvegr" The voice was one from a child. England to be more exact and it was filled with contempt. "Finally you are the one on the ground before my feet and not the other way around."

Norway's entire body was screaming in protest as he forced his head up from the ground. Still partially blinded by the light, Norway looked up at the young boy. He wondered if his mind was playing a trick on him or if the English personification had grown taller since they had last met in battle. Or maybe it was just the way people appeared when one was forced to look up at them in defeat.

"Get him up" the child ordered the men that Norway had only heard walk up to him but not yet seen. They were harsh in their movements as they grabbed him by the arms and yanked him up from the ground. He bit down on his lips in order to contain a scream of pain as the injured shoulder was forcibly moved.

England apparently noticed and he smirked viciously as the Norwegian was forced to stand on his knees in front of him. Like that they were almost of an eyelevel with each other, England standing just a little taller than the other.

Norway's eyes had finally adjusted to the light and he could take in his surroundings. A quick look down to assess his own condition made his stomach churn in disgust. One side of his tunic was almost entirely soaked in blood and it came from the arrow still stuck deeply in his shoulder. A second glance around the area revealed that he was alone, surrounded by a small group of English soldiers. The rest of the army was just out of earshot.

"Wondering where the rest of your people are?" England asked mockingly as he followed the Norwegian's gaze. "Some of them are still alive. They surrendered soon after their king died; we are just having a small chat with Harald's sons at the moment. They seem like bright young men and have been very reasonable so far."

Norway sneered angrily and attempted a rush forward to tear the little boy to pieces. But he was held firmly in place by the English soldiers and barely moved from the spot. England laughed hysterically and jumped around on the spot, clapping his hands in joy.

"This will be your last time terrorizing my land" the boy laughed. "I will allow you to return back to the north if you make the same promise the sons of your king are making at the moment. It's not like you have much choice anyways. Once your kings make their oaths, you will be bound by their promise as well."

Norway never answered. He merely glared at the child, but England didn't seem bothered by it. "The promise is that I will let you go as long as you swear never to return back to my land with the intent of raiding."

"And what if I refuse your terms?" Norway snarled. "I will just have to keep you here alone until you give in and let your kings sail home without you" England smiled. "You are no danger alone and your people will not be much if the personification of their land is a prisoner in a foreign country. It matters not to me. It will give me the chance to take back for all the pain you have caused me over the years."

England stepped forward and moved his face so close to the Norwegians that they were almost nose to nose. Norway's eyes were shining in anger and England's in malicious delight. The boy moved his hand and clasped his fingers around the shaft of the arrow, still pointing out of Norway's shoulder.

"You deserve this" the boy said venomously as he twisted the arrow around with all with all the strength he could muster.

* * *

The English army was about to leave with King Harold Godwinson in the lead. The Vikings were left behind on the battlefield of Stamford. Their weapons had been taken, their clothing was ruined and stained in the blood of their fallen comrades who were lying dead all around them.

Just before they left, a group of soldiers had walked up the sons of Harald Hardråde. The figure hauled along by two men was barely even recognizable as a man until they flung him to the ground before the new kings' feet.

"This belongs to you" one of the soldiers barked, before they too turned to leave with the retreating army.

The Norwegian personification was beaten, still bleeding and defeated just like the Viking army was. The promises were made.

Never again would a Norwegian army of Vikings set foot on English soil.

Those days were gone forever. Now they had to return home in shame.

* * *

**AN:** End of an era... The Danes, Swedes and even some Norwegians did a few more raids after this date, but this battle still officially marks the end of the Viking age. King Harold's victory was short lived though. He had to march his battered army back south and he was defeated at the battle of Hastings.

How do I move on from here? I'm not entirely sure, but I am considering of jumping forward quite a bit in time, because the next 100 years or so was quite peaceful. I'll have to do some planning. So it's likely that I won't be able to post next week, but I'll try my best to be back the one after that.

* * *

[1] The battle of Fulord took place the 20 September 1066 and the Norwegians defeated the army of the jarls Edwin and Morcar, but it is not considered an important victory or loss for either side in the war.

[2]' Helvete' is Norwegian meaning 'hell.' It is very common to use as a swear word

[3] The tale of the Viking berserker is supposedly mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, but it is a tale that is told from a couple of other English battles and as it is not mentioned in Harald Hardrådes saga by Snorre Sturlason, it is most likely a myth.


	25. Kyrre 1066 - 1069

**AN: **Sigh. I know it's late and just a bit short, but here it is.

I felt I had to write this chapter to really finish the Viking Age. For the next time I am thinking of jumping as far forwards in time as to 1349 and the Black Death…

* * *

**Middle Ages (1066 – 1397)**

**Kyrre 1066**

The taste of victory was always so sweet. It left a feeling of being at the top of the world, being strong and completely invincible. Any feeling of having ever been tired would be washed away and almost any pain from injury would be forgotten in the high of having won a battle took over. There was also the feeling of lightheadedness as one's body would struggle to calm down after the rush of adrenaline that had surged through it in the heat of battle.

Any feelings Norway had at the moment was not even close to resembling those that came along with victory at all. Defeat was nothing like triumph and the additional shame that came with it this time was almost unbearable. He and Harald Hardråde had definitely overestimated the capability of their own army and now they had to pay dearly for that mistake in their own blood and the blood of their people.

They had sailed to the southwest with 300 ships to claim the English throne several weeks ago. The country was supposed to be an easy target as more than one king was struggling to get into power. They were supposed to be too focused on their own internal fight for power and the Viking army should have defeated them easily.

But now only 24 ships remained on the journey back north. It was all that was needed to bring all that remained of the once so proud Viking army home.

The side effects of defeat were plaguing the entire Viking army as they struggled to keep the long ships under control over rough seas. After a victory, pain could be partially forgotten. But defeat made any injury seem ten times worse and the exhaustion was just overwhelming, making the simplest of movements a torment.

* * *

Norway was lying absolutely still in the bottom of the ship. Even the slightest movement would make his entire body scream in protest. His muscles burned and every wound from the battle would burn as if someone had poured salt in them, leaving him out of breath until the pain subsided to a dull ache again.

They were now several hours into the journey north. The Norwegian personification was just barely capable of catching a glimpse of the sky passing above them. Even the weather appeared to be in a foul mood, judging by how the clouds tensed up, leaving the sky black.

Rain and stormy seas were ahead as night began to fall on them. The journey home was just meant to be a struggle for every man on board.

Norway found it was hard to even keep his eyes open. Not only had his body been battered in the meeting with England and his men. His face had also gotten its fair share of the beating, and now as it had been hours since the beating it had begun to swell as his body tried to heal, making it almost impossible to get his eyes open at all.

Not that England and his lackeys had had any reason to be kind at all when they had finally brought down the Norwegian personification. The northerners had after all tormented the English people for close to 300 years. He assumed he should just be happy that he could move at all when they finally let him go.

He let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes, and took a new breath to fill his lungs with some of the fresh ocean breeze. Instead the air was too thick with the scent of blood and sweat and as soon as he closed his eyes the memories of the battle began repeating themselves over and over again. Letting him see the faces of dying men as his people had been slaughtered.

It made sleep almost impossible, when all the memories were all so fresh and vivid. Not that sleep was any good either. When it finally came upon him it was haunted by nightmares as well as with memories.

When Norway had woken in the midst of a group of English soldiers, England had claimed that he had taken Norway away from the rest of his people only to make him swear the same oath that his new kings had agreed to

But from the way the boy had grinned when he twisted the arrow in Norway's shoulder around, it had been clear that it was not just about the oath.

The English personification had finally given a chance to pay back for some of the misery the Norwegians had caused, and he was going to enjoy it.

The twisting of the arrow had only been the beginning of what was to come.

* * *

The wounded shoulder had already begun to heal before it was torn open again to bleed yet again as the arrow was twisted around. Norway could not help but to cry out in pain as every nerve felt as I it was set ablaze sending liquid fire through his veins.

There was nothing he could do to get away from it either. His arms were held firmly in place by the English soldiers, making escape impossible. His bots made scuffmarks on the ground as he desperately fought to get away from the soldiers.

England had laughed at the reaction he had received and his eyes sparkled viciously. He then yanked at the arrow, pulling it out and making sure that the barbs could tear up the wound even further, leaving the Norwegian hissing in pain.

The boy seemed intrigued by the crimson blood that ran down the arrow as he held it up for inspection. It slowly ran over his fingers, painting them red before it gathered up in droplets that fell to the dry ground, leaving a pattern of dark red circles that dried in the dry August air.

"So how does it feel to be helpless?" the boy asked and cast a glance at the nation wheezing for air and groaning in pain. "It sucks doesn't it?" England continued in a cold voice.

"It hurts to be beaten and at the mercy of somebody else that have no reason to make things easy for you at all. To have no idea of what will happen to you, beyond the point that it probably will be bad. Well now you know I have felt for hundreds of years now!" England was almost at the point of screaming.

All the hint of cold and controlled malevolence the boy had possessed was gone in favor of pure hatred and rage. England clenched his fingers around the arrow until it snapped with a loud crack before he hurled it away and breathed heavily.

Norway didn't answer.

He was out of words and fatigue was taking its toll on him. All the men he had left in the country of England knew that they had lost and their king was dead. They had heard their new kings swear an oath to the English king Norway knew there was no glorious way for him to get out of this situation.

England had followed as the arrow flown through the air and landed somewhere in the dry grass meters away from them. "I hate you!" suddenly screamed, taking Norway by surprise. His face was twisted in anger and sent out a kick that struck the Norwegian personification in the gut, leaving him out of breath yet again.

The English guards let go of the Viking's arms and let him fall to the ground.

Norway could barely make his arms catch the fall and keep him from landing on his face in the dirt. All strength had seemed to have left him and he was barely capable of keeping himself up even on all four on the ground.

"Say something!" the young boy screamed. His face was turning a darker shade of red as his anger grew even worse. His hands were shaking as he clenched his fingers into tight fists and his bushy brows were knitted tightly together.

Norway kept his eyes on the ground. The gash in his shoulder was still bleeding and dripping crimson red to the ground just before his eyes. The battle was lost. He had known that from the moment Hardråde had fallen. He had dreaded this moment, but it was time to admit defeat.

"I'll swear you oath." Norway mumbled quietly, never lifting his gaze from the ground.

England hissed aggressively in disbelief before him. "What did you say?"

"I said I'll swear your oath" Norway snarled back as he lifted his head to lock gaze with the young personification, showing that he had some pride left even after such a massive loss and being helplessly beaten by a child nation. He was not afraid of looking some child in the eyes.

"Then do it" England said, for once the cold blue eyes of the Norwegian did nothing to scare him.

Norway gathered some of his last energy to push himself up enough from the ground to balance on his knees without keeling over. "I, the kingdom of Norðvegr do hereby swear that I will not set my foot on English soil ever again with the intent of going Viking." He venomously spat out the words as if they burned on his tongue.

England looked a bit disappointed as the words were said. "I had hoped it would take a bit longer before you accepted the choices of your new kings" he said and then looked up to address his men, turning his attention away from the personification.

"My business with him is over" England said flatly to the small group of guards that had surrounded them. "He is all yours. Just make sure he still breathes when he is returned to his king. Nothing else is required"

Norway could fell his heart race as he realized the meaning of the personification's words. One of the guards kicked up dirt as he took a step closer, another cracked his knuckles dangerously.

"No!" Norway screamed and rushed to his feet as adrenaline surged through his veins. He barely got two steps away before someone yanked him back by his cloak, sending him tumbling to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust in his path.

All around, shadows of the guards fell on him and blocked out the rays of the sun. It left the faces of the men in partial shadow, hiding their emotions if they even had any.

* * *

"This belongs to you."

Harald Hardråde's sons, Magnus and Olav had been shocked as the personification of their land was shoved before their feet, barely moving and with rasping breath. His clothing was drenched in blood and torn in several places, the dark blue woolen cloak he had worn was barely hanging on around his shoulders and no amount sewing would be able to properly repair it.

Norway could not see anything from where he was lying but for the young men's feet, but he could hear the sudden intake of breath they both took when he landed before them. He struggled to lift his head up to look at them, but every muscle was shaking too much from the strain and he only managed to dig his nails down in the dirt, clasping his fingers around a tuft of dead grass instead of even lifting his head at all.

He had heard a low grumble from the man he recognized as Magnus and the softer voice of Olav as the younger brother attempted to calm down the older, to keep him from making any foolish movements.

The rest of the Vikings remained silent as the English army retreated and left them behind. None of them dared to spite the English as they had nothing left to stand up against them with. They would be crushed in an instant if they made the wrong move. They had no armor and barely any men left.

"We should head home" Olav mumbled quietly. His voice sounded defeated, quiet and uncertain and slightly shaky. He got no response from the rest of the men and only a murmur from his brother.

The Vikings had no option but to gather whatever they had left and leave the dead behind. They bodies were far too many to keep a proper burial for them all. The only dead that would be brought back to the north, was the one of the fallen king, Harald Hardråde.

Nobody said anything, they didn't have to. They all knew that they had to make the walk back to the shore where their ships waited. The men that were still uninjured helped move the men that were too hurt to move on their own.

Norway only heard the scraping of feet as people moved around the area and an occasional grunt or cry from a man in pain as they were moved. It didn't take too long before someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get you back home where we all belong."

* * *

Three years after the battle of Stamford Bridge. Norway was on his way to visit the king Olav Haraldsson for the first time in months. Olav's brother Magnus had fallen ill and died just a few weeks earlier, leaving the younger Olav to be sole ruler of the land where the two brothers had split the rule earlier.

When Norway had first arrived at the king's home and finally stood face to face with him, the king had looked tired, but brightened up once he recognized his visitor. He had always been more likely to smile than his brother and father had ever been.

"It's been a while" Olav said in his normal soft voice and Norway nodded in response. The king was quick to gain a look of worry over his face. "How's the shoulder?" he asked and knit his brows together, making small lines appear on his forehead.

Norway merely shrugged. "It is barely even a scar anymore" he said flatly. "I told you not to worry and that it would heal."

"Still it looked bad there for a moment" the king replied.

"I guess it did" Norway mumbled in return. "But let's not talk about it anymore. You had a reason for asking me here I assume and it was probably not just to ask me about my health."

Olav nodded and brightened up again. He waived his arm towards a group of chair by a crackling fire as a signal for Norway to take a seat. "You're right about that." Olav said. He moved around the chair to find a more comfortable position and the wood creaked dangerously under his weight.

"You know that my brother died recently" Olav said, and Norway nodded to confirm. "I am sad that he is gone, but I am done mourning. I am king and I have responsibilities. Now that I am sole ruler there are many things I can do and I don't have to get his permission first to do any of them."

"What sorts of things are you thinking of my lord?" Norway asked curiously.

"I am not my father at all" Olav said and knitted his brows. He leant his elbows on his knees and used his hands to support his head in thought. "Father wanted power more than anything in the whole world. I guess that is what led him to his death." Norway nodded again, urging on the king to continue.

"I think we as a people have a lot of changes to make. We made an oath never to raid England again, so we have sort of made peace with the English king already." "I think you have made a lot of changes already" Norway broke in. "The people already gave you the nickname of Kyrre[1]."

Olav laughed. "I still wish to do more" he said. "At the moment there is one thing in particular from my father's past that I wish to correct." Norway narrowed his brows as well, wondering where the conversation was going. "I was hoping I could send you out for an errand"

"Of course my lord" Norway replied. "What is it you wish of me?"

Olav took a long breath to draw out a break. "As far as I understand my father was constantly fighting with Svend Estridsson, the king of Denmark, trying to take over his kingdom."

Norway had to fight to keep his face blank of emotion. He did not want his king to figure out what he was thinking.

Olav didn't seem to pay him too much thought. "I don't know how this these things work, but I assume you know the personification or at least have met it before. Do you think there is any way of making peace with the Danes? I don't want them to have a grudge against us because of the actions of my father[2]."

Olav looked up at Norway hopefully, like a pleading child. The king was picking at a loose thread in his shirt, clearly showing that he was a bit nervous at the whole thing.

"You don't know Denmark" Norway said. "If he has anything to say then they will have no problem forgetting all about your father."

Olav smiled. "That is wonderful news. I'll arrange for a ship to leave in a few weeks."

Norway smiled at his king, but inside he was a bit more nervous. It would be one hell of a trip. If he knew Denmark right the man would be overjoyed to hear Olav's message that their people could be at peace again. Denmark would surely be clingy until and then he would probably start asking about what had happened at Stamford.

Norway was deep in thought, wondering how it would be to finally see Denmark again.

"You seem different" Olav suddenly said, breaking the long silence they had kept. Norway looked at him curiously, raising an eyebrow in wonder. "Different from when I first met you I mean" the king said quickly.

"How am I different?" Norway asked.

"You seem calmer" The king answered. "When my father was in charge you seemed a lot like him, but not anymore."

"Maybe you're right." Norway let a smile just barely show at the corner of his lips. "But then I think calmer is better."

* * *

[1] Kyrre is a word that meant 'the peaceful'

[2] Olav Kyrre did make peace with the Danish king Svend Estridsson and his people. His rule was so peaceful that the sagas barely have any stories about him.


	26. Bound by marriage 1319 - 1343

**AN:** So I am doing a major skip in time… Not all the way to the Black Death like I first thought and said I would, so that will be next time instead. I felt like I could not skip the events of this chapter, the first union with Norway and Sweden.

* * *

**Bound by marriage 1319 - 1343**

1319

The massive wooden door that was guarding the house of the Swedish personification was looking anything but inviting. Or at least that was what Norway though as he was standing just before it, wishing that he could just turn back and forget he had made it over there in the first place.

Trying to drag out time was pointless, for the topic in need of discussion would not go away on its own and it would not become more pleasant as the minutes passed. Norway took one deep breath of air before he raised an arm to knock sharply on the door to announce his presence.

There was a minute of wait before any sound could be heard from within the house. Norway had almost hoped that nobody was home and it would give him a little more time. But that hope was crushed as heavy footsteps came closer and the door finally swung open.

"Sverige" Norway greeted flatly as the Swede came fully into view.

"Norge" the Swede answered in the low rumble that was his voice. An uncomfortable silence ensued as the two personifications analyzed each other. Sweden with an icy stare and with brows knit tightly together as Norway did the same only with a mild look of disinterest.

"What is it you want here?" the Swede asked, breaking the stare off.

"We need to talk" Norway answered unemotionally and not even blinking. Sweden didn't say anything, but he moved aside and opened the door fully to let the Norwegian walk past and enter the house.

Neither of them was much for conversation, so not a single word was said as they walked to the living room where they could take up seats opposite of each other. It was like a competition where the point was to not be one who talked first and they were both very good at it.

"So why are you here?" Sweden finally asked. .

Norway moved shifted in his seat and let his gaze wander across the room to avoid the piercing stare of the Swede. "My king has died" Norway stated coldly as he finally met Sweden's gaze again.

The taller male didn't say anything, he merely lifted an eyebrow slightly and Norway took the hint to continue. "He died without a male heir to take over the throne. He only had a daughter, and from what I know she married some duke or prince over here."

Sweden nodded slowly, confirming the fact.

"Is it also true that the two of them have a son?" Norway asked. Now Sweden looked slightly more interested. "Yes" he mumbled quietly. "His name is Magnus and he is three winters of age. But where are you going with this?"

Norway shifted nervously in his seat again. "Magnus is the only heir to the throne of my kingdom. He is the only male that is from the line of my king."

The silence was deafening as the sentence hung on the air for a while as Sweden let the information sink in. "Magnus is already chosen as the king of my land" he said thoughtfully. "Then that means Magnus will be the king of both our kingdoms."

"Yes" Norway confirmed bitterly. "It is a union as a result of marriage. The daughter of my king marries a man in line for your throne and he dies before he could get any other children. Magnus is still not old enough, but when he comes of age he will be the ruler of both our kingdoms and all the land we are in possession of."

Sweden nodded again and the two of them fell silent again. Norway was quietly clutching the armrest of his chairs until his knuckles turned white and his fingernails dug deep marks in the wood.

* * *

1336

Papers were flying everywhere in meeting locality in the city of Bjørgvin[1]. A group of Norwegian nobles had gathered to discuss the recent coronation of their king and one of them had in anger tossed a stack of letters and documents in the air to watch them sail through the air at random.

"They held the crowning in Sverige and think that is the end of it." He shouted angrily as he deliberately stepped on one of the documents. "This is not the first time the Swedes and the counsel do things without even talking to us fist and ask our opinion. When Magnus was a child we agreed that his mother would rule in his place. Then they all of a sudden refuse to accept her orders at all."

Norway had his place among the nobles and he refused to stand by and accept whatever the nobles thoughtlessly tossed around and gave the angered noble a cold stare as he stepped in front of him. "You can't blame them for that choice, not when we took away most of her power only a year after the Swedes did."

"Are you protecting the Swedes now?" the nobleman hissed aggressively, but he was nowhere close to making the other male back down. "I am not defending their behavior" Norway snarled back through clenched teeth. "But I am not going to protect Magnus' mother either.

"That woman was being way out of line, using money in the name of her son and without the permission of either our counsel or the Swedish one. If you are going to be angry at the Swedes it should not be because they took away her power. She used the royal seal for her own gain and then she lets her forces be used to invade Skåne[2], giving us a whole lot of problem with the Danes."

"Why should the Danes be so aggressive about Skåne anyways?" The nobleman hissed back. "Their previous king pawned[3] of Skåne and most of their land to clear his debt. It is not like it is theirs anymore."

One of the other men present saw fit to step in. "This is not about Skåne" he said firmly, stepping between the angered men. "Magnus has bought Skåne now anyways. The Danes might not be happy about having lost that portion of land, but it belongs to Magnus now. He paid the silver price for it. What we should be concerned about is how the Swedish counsel thinks they can ignore our laws and opinions."

The first angered nobleman turned his attention away from Norway and addressed the rest of the group instead, being remembered of why he was truly angry in the first place. "That is right" he said loudly. "Years after they took the power away from Magnus' mother they declared that he had come at an age when he had only seen 15 winters. We have clear laws that say that he was not ready to be king until he was 20 years of age but they completely ignore it. And now as he has finally reached that age, they crown him in Sverige and will not let us have our own ceremony."

"He is now the king of Sverige, Norge and Skåne and they won't let us crown him here in our lands like we would have done with any of our kings" one of the other men said venomously adding to the tension of the meeting. "It is like the Swedes have the control over him, they don't listen to our laws and we don't get to crown the man that is our king."

The first noble stepped up on a chair to take control of the situation before the argument got out of hand. "We can't let the Swedes continue to treat us this way. Magnus may have had a Swedish father, but his mother was one of us and he is our king as well as their, they should not try to keep him to themselves."

Some of the other noblemen cheered and whistled to show that they agreed and were ready to protest against the current situation of the two countries.

"Magnus is the only true heir we have" Norway had calmed down and spoke in an icy voice to the noble in charge. "There is no one else that can take over the throne in his place."

The noble snorted loudly. "Still we should not just stand by and let them think they can do whatever they want without us letting them know that we do not agree. We will not be stepped on."

Norway sighed and stepped back. This was the second time the nobles had decided to rebel against decisions that had been in the hands of the Swedes. The last one had not lasted for long until they had submitted to the rule of Magnus. This time would be no different.

The Swedes would not change their minds easily. Norway should know that better than anyone. He had tried to talk to the personification and he had gotten nowhere. The noblemen were not likely to achieve much more than he had done.

* * *

1343

The document carried all the signatures that were needed to finally settle the matter that had been troubling him for years. Norway had read some parts of the paper several times and it never became any less satisfying to read it. 'The union between the kingdom of Sweden and the Kingdom of Norway will be severed'. The nobles had been unhappy for a long time and it was a relief to finally end it.

Norway smiled as he put the document back down on the table, marveling how the black ink shimmered in the light. The document was a written confirmation of what he and Sweden had discussed some weeks ago.

The house was quiet for once. Iceland was out and had dragged his bird along with him. For the first time in a long while there were no disgruntled nobles that angrily wanted to discuss how displeased they were with one thing or another concerning the union[4].

But he should have known he couldn't expect to have a moment of silence, for as soon as he had found a book and a comfortable seat there was a loud knock at the door. He decided to ignore it, hoping that whoever it was would leave.

He had no such luck. The knocking continued and got even worse in intensity. "Hey Norge, are you there?" that got the Norwegians attention; for he was sure he there was only one person that voice belonged to. There was also only one person he knew of that would be so persistent in knocking without getting an answer on the first try.

Sighing he got up from the chair and over to the door to let the man in. He had barely even opened a slight crack before the Dane burst through the door. As soon as the spiky haired nation noticed the Norwegian his face lit up in a big smile and went for a bear hug.

"What are you doing here Danmark?" Norway could barely get the words out from the lack of air that was a result of having his ribs crushed.

The Dane let him go and he practically beamed. "I was supposed to travel to Sveriges place; I have something I needed to talk to him about. But when I was traveling I figured that since I was in the neighborhood I could just visit you first and go to Sverige later."

Denmark had only been present for a minute and so and already he had to face palm in annoyance. Danmark" he said as calmly as he could, but his voice was on the verge of shaking. "Sverige lives closer to you than I do. You just added several days to you travel by coming here at all. What is the real reason?"

"Can't you just accept that I wanted to visit you?" the Dane asked. Norway shook his head. "Being who we are it's not often that we are allowed to just make social calls. Kings don't often approve of behavior like that and especially not now after all the trouble there have been around all this trouble around Skåne."

Denmark huffed disapprovingly and his smile fell a bit. "Okay so I might have avoided my duties just a slight bit by coming here. But if my king is being selfish, then why should I not be? He is finally giving up this whole fight about Skåne after all these years of fighting with Magnus. But he doesn't want to deliver that message to the Swedes by himself, so he sends me to do it. As if I want to be there and tell Sweden that we won."

Norway merely lifted an eyebrow at the Dane who seemed to be lost in his thoughts as he continued to talk angrily and pace around the room. "I don't see how you can stand to be in a union with that guy anyways; he almost never talks and just keeps looking creepy as he stares. Has he even got any other facial expressions?"

"Danmark" Norway tried to interrupt, but his attempt was unsuccessful. "So it might not have been a choice from either one of you" Denmark continued his rant. "You can just send one of those green creatures after him at get out of the whole deal. Or maybe send that rabid puffin of Iceland's after him…"

"Matthias!" Norway had to yell and the use of Denmark's human name seemed to reach through as the Danes stopped both his rant and his pacing. "I'm free of the union."

Denmark's mouth fell open. "What?" he stuttered out. "But how? And when?"

"The how is simple" Norway answered with slight amusement. "We came to agreement just a few weeks ago and I just got the signed documents from Sverige. The how is a bit more difficult to answer."

Denmark looked amazed, with wide eyes and lifted eyebrows. It was obviously the first he had heard of it. "I'm listening."

Norway waived an arm to a group of chairs so they could take a seat. "We are not entirely out of the union yet" Norway began. "But we'll be there soon. Magnus have two sons, Eric and Haakon. Eric is set to be the heir of Sverige after his father and according to our laws he is also the one in line for the throne here as well."

Denmark nodded thoughtfully and Norway took it as a sign to continue. "Sverige and I haven't exactly been in agreement on everything. The counsel over there seemed to take too much control and I was sick of it, and so were my nobles. So we agreed to look aside from the rules of succession we have. Sverige will have Eric as their heir while we will have the younger brother Haakon, when he comes of age."

Denmark's mouth still hung open as he processed the information, but then he grinned. "That's great" he laughed, "bet you learned that you should not let your royalty marry some Swedish prince huh?"

Norway gave him a glare, but the Dane seemed completely unfazed by it. "Perhaps we should arrange a marriage between our royalties instead" Denmark said happily. "Perhaps that could make a union between our kingdoms again, just like what happened between you and Sweden. Or perhaps the two of us should just marry instead."

Then he laughed heartily, and his laughter echoed in the room.

"Don't make a joke like that!" Norway snapped. He stood up and the chair screeched as it was showed across the floor. His eyes were burning with cold fire.

Denmark chuckled and stood up as well. The glare from the Norwegian did nothing to scare him off.

Instead he got closer "I wasn't joking" he said teasingly and gave Norway a quick peck on the nose, before he stepped back in time to avoid the punch that was sent in his direction.

Norway grumbled angrily for himself to the Danes great amusement. "Guess I should leave now before your head explodes" he laughed. "I do after all have a message to deliver to our scary Swedish friend" Then he disappeared out the door just as fast as he had first shown up, leaving a fuming Norwegian behind.

* * *

**AN:** I'm not sure what I just wrote… well… anyways… Black Death next time, and guess what comes after that!

* * *

[1] Bjørgvin is the old name of the city today named Bergen and it was the capital of Norway from 1217 to 1314

[2] Skåne or in English 'Scania' is a province in Sweden, but it used to be a part of Denmark. Magnus' mother wanted to be in control over it and sent her forces there breaking an alliance with the Danes. The Swedish regency counsel made a rule that none of her orders would be accepted unless the whole of the council agreed to it.

[3] King Christopher 2. Of Denmark died in 1332 as 'the king without a country' because his predecessor and older brother had pawned Denmark piece by piece

[4] The Norwegians were on several occasions in disagreement with how things were done in the union between Norway and Sweden. The opposition against Magnus grew and it led to the settlement in 1343 where they found a way to end the union.


End file.
